


HIDEOUS

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU, Curses, F/M, Fairy, Goblin - Freeform, Human, Madness, cursing, fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marianne agrees to play cleaning lady to a recluse after her sister picks a primrose</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue/Payment

**Author's Note:**

> A beauty and the beast au idea that Goldwerewolf and I have started working on together. She is so full of wonderful ideas!!

Prologue: 

Once Upon a Time a fair maiden saved a man who thought himself unlovable... 

The man lived in a large house. He had kept himself in his house for days, no sunlight, no happiness, nothing eased the emptiness inside him. He had stayed in the darkness of his room after the woman he loved had told him she didn't love him in return. She had said she had never loved him, breaking his heart. The man, whose name was Bog, had done so much for her. He had tried so hard to show her how much he loved her, in every way he could think of, but still it had not been enough. Then, in his desperation to win her love, he had done the unthinkable. 

Bog found the home of the witch and climbed the garden wall that surrounded the witch's garden. Plum, the witch, had a garden full of magical plants and flowers deep in the forest. He had climbed the stone wall to steal a magical primrose. The primrose's magic was said to make someone fall in love with the giver of the flower. 

He stole the flower and presented it to the woman he loved, but the magic didn't work for Bog. Worse, she had screamed in horror when she touched the flower. Her nails raked across his face, leaving scars on his chin that would haunt him, remind him of how loveless, unlovable, and ugly he was, never to be loved or love in return. In his grief , Bog went to the witch's garden, tore down the primroses and their false promise of love. No one should find love with the false magic of the primroses. 

The witch Plum caught him in the act of destroying the primroses. In anger, the witch cursed the young man to a half-life. He was to be a hideous creature, he was to look as he felt about himself. Only when he found someone to love and who loved him would the curse be broken. 

Now Bog was trapped in the ancient house with only a few knowing that the strange man that lived there was cursed to a half-life. But the curse did not only affect Bog, the witch set the curse upon the household as well. The staff was doomed to the same curse as the master of the house. So Bog had set about shutting the house, preventing the outside world from entering the cursed home. He did not believe the curse would ever be broken, but he did believe that he deserved what had happened to him. His heart broke for the love he would never have and the pain he had caused. 

And thus stories grew, until no one would wander near the home of the feared Bog King. 

As part of his punishment, Plum made the primroses grow on the same land that the house occupied. The home of the Bog King was covered in magical primroses. His duty was to guard them from any who would use their magic. So as the years went by the primroses took over the house and yard. Bog stayed hidden within the dark walls and the stories grew. 

* 

The bright fall day had started to turn the rosy gold of early evening. Sunny and Dawn were walking home, hand in hand, but stopped as they started to walk in front of the local haunted house. It was buried in bushes and covered in primroses. The house was barely visible through the vegetation that covered it. 

Dawn stopped to lean on the old metal gate, gazing at the house with a soft look of wonderment. Her blonde hair was light and bright like dandelions in summer, her face full of romance as she gazed at the house. She was wearing a baby blue Henley and jeans, looking adorable and bright. 

“This place could be so beautiful...” She said it with a blissful sigh. As Sunny watched Dawn, his brown eyes were full of warmth. He was so in love with her, he would do anything for her, including breaking and entering. 

“You want to go check it out?” Sunny leaned over a bit to look into her face. 

Dawn pushed back off the fence, her blue eyes dancing. “You think that's a good idea?” 

“Why not? It's empty right?” Sunny smiled. Dawn loved the way he smiled. 

Dawn grinned. “Yes, let's go do it!!” 

* 

The strange colored primroses seemed to cover every surface outside the house. They crawled along the ground, but only within the confines of fence that surrounded the old house. Outside the gate, there were no primroses anywhere. Sunny and Dawn climbed the fence as the sun started to fade and the first stars of early evening could be seen twinkling in the sky above. 

“Did you bring a light?” Dawn's eyes traveled up the front of the house to the roof as they approached. The house sat silent, like a beast resting. 

“Don't I always come prepared?” Sunny grinned, producing a small flashlight from his pack. Sunny was known for carrying everything conceivable in his backpack. The young man was always prepared. That was what he was known for when they were in high school. His nickname was the Elf, a shoemaker's elf was the joke, but he didn't care, especially when a certain little blonde giggled and smiled at him. The nickname, as well as the backpack, continued to be part of who Sunny was, even now that they were adults. 

They walked closer, moving slowly as if they were afraid something might leap out from the bushes at them. Sunny held the flashlight out in front of them, the beam moving across what looked to be the remains of a cobblestone path. When they got closer to the house itself, they stepped slowly onto the porch. Once on the porch, they both leaned against the windows, trying to peer inside, but the glass was covered in years of dirt and grime. Sunny pressed the flashlight's beam against the glass, but still all they could make out were shadowy forms. Moving carefully, they made their way to the front door. The front door was a large, intricately carved piece of wood, looking more like a sculpture than a functioning door. 

Dawn gasped in awe. “Oh, Sunny look at it!” 

Dawn ran her hands over the door. Her fingers brushed against the knob and then gingerly wrapped around the handle and pushed softly. Surprisingly, the door swung open with a loud groan. Sunny moved the flashlight around before they walked through the doorway. There were cobwebs and dust everywhere. They stepped inside moving carefully. There were several pieces of furniture that even untrained eyes such as Dawn and Sunny's could tell were probably old. Intricate stained glass windows decorated the tops of each of the windows in a dining room. They found sculptures, actual painted portraits, a silver tea set and ancient books. The two of them explored for well over an hour being very careful not to touch anything. They were completely unaware that they were being watched from the darkened corners of the house. 

By the time they stepped outside, it was fully dark, the autumn sky dotted with stars. Sunny took her hand. “We better get back! Marianne or your Dad is going to kill us!” Dawn grinned. “Okay, hold on.” She reached out taking one of the primroses. It popped loose from the vine into her hand and then the two lovers were off. 

* 

Inside the house, watching from a window, a shadow stirred. When the young woman took the flower, the growl that sounded echoed throughout the room. The growl was fearsome enough that it would have made someone's blood run cold with fear. They took a primrose...after he let them wander his house! They took the one thing they should never have touched!! He snarled, losing control, his temper and fear caused him to lash out ripping into the walls, throwing the few pieces of furniture that were in his room, breaking them to pieces. When a door opened, the light from a single candle caught eyes so blue that it would make poets weep from the purity of the color. The voice in the darkness attached to the eyes hissed. “What do you want!?” 

The woman holding the candle was tiny, with greying red hair and small warm eyes. “What happened? I heard them leave, but then....” 

The creature snarled. “THEY TOOK A PRIMROSE!” 

* 

Dawn and Sunny came into the house. “Sorry we're late!!” 

Marianne hollered from another room “Dinner is in the oven, you two!” 

Dawn jogged into the living room. “Hey, Marianne! Sunny and I went and looked at the old house! You know the one we always walked past as kids? Anyway, Sunny and I went inside! It was amazing!!” 

Marianne was sitting on the couch. She looked over the back of the couch, her amber eyes catching her sisters. “What?” 

Dawn walked over and leaned on the back of the couch next to her sister, the flower in hand. “I picked one of those flowers we always saw when we were kids.” She held the flower out to her sister. 

Marianne frowned, taking it. “Dawn, I don't think that was a good idea.” 

Dawn frowned. “Why not?” 

Marianne twisted the small flower in her fingertips. “I don't know. I just don't think it was a good idea.” 

* 

The next morning, quite early, there was a knock at the door. Marianne was reluctantly the first up after a horrible night's sleep plagued by dreams, or were they nightmares? They were all of a tall creature made of sharp points and wings that had glared at her from darkened corners. 

She was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in her hands when she heard the knock. She frowned. This early in the morning? She may have to resort to murder...but the cops would forgive her because...morning... 

Taking her cup of coffee with her, Marianne shuffled to the door. She was wearing an oversize pair of plaid pajama pants and a tank top, her short hair looking at if she styled it by sticking her finger in an electrical socket. She opened the door with a glare, her eyes immediately having to drop down. There she saw a short older woman with a head of crazy red hair. 

“Uh, yes. Hello.” She smiled, the smile slowly growing at she looked at this clearly bed-ruffled young woman. “Hello, my dear, my name is Griselda. Uh. Someone took a flower from my house.” 

Marianne blinked in sleepy confusion. “What?” 

Chapter One: Payment 

Marianne pulled up to the gate, putting her car into park. There on the gate, just as the phone call had said was a note addressed to her. Muttering under her breath, Marianne got out of the car to snatch the note off the gate. The note was in the most elegant handwriting she had ever seen. It read: Gate is Open Park Your Car by the Fountain, the doors are unlocked. 

“Weirdo,” she muttered as she shoved the note into her pocket of her jeans, opened the gate, which let out a God-awful sound before getting into her car and driving through. Once she had her vehicle through the gates, she got out and closed them again. There in the middle of the yard, covered in a variety of growing green stuff and highlighted with primroses, was a great big fountain. 

Marianne whistled to herself thinking that thing had probably cost a pretty penny in its day to build and run, but now the fountain was filled with stagnant water and green slime. The fountain had some sort of mystical creature in the middle of it, but it was so overgrown with moss and pink little flowers that it was hard to see what exactly it was supposed to be. 

As she got out of her car, she moved to the trunk to get out her cleaning supplies. Marianne looked up. The place looked to have been built based on story book pictures of creepy cottages. 

Marianne rolled her eyes. Here she was playing cleaning lady all because her sister broke into this stupid place and picked a flower. The only reason Dawn wasn't doing this was because Marianne would never put Dawn in a position to deal with some old eccentric.

The old lady who had come to her door, Griselda, had said the place was actually her son's home and that he was a recluse. He had allowed the invasion of his home only because he didn't want to confront them as along as they left without taking anything. But when her sister picked the primrose, that had violated his sense of polite behavior and demanded recompense. The whole thing was weird, but the old lady had offered to pay Marianne if she would clean house for her son. He didn't have to know Marianne was being paid and he would be happy to know that the violation was being taken care of. Besides, Griselda had said the place was a mess. And from what Dawn had told her that was very true. So, it was some extra money on the side. 

But all communication was going to be either through Griselda, or notes. Griselda had said her son was not only a recluse, but extremely shy and suffered from agoraphobia. Marianne sighed, poor guy, it must be hard and then her sister broke into his house. No wonder he flipped out about the flower! 

* 

The door, which Dawn had told her was beautiful, was indeed open as she carried in her cleaning supplies. The plan was for her to thoroughly clean one room each day, then to maintain the house until further notice. She was paid a nice price for her work as well as repaying what her sister had done inadvertently. And Marianne needed the job after running home after her boyfriend cheated on her and her whole world had fallen apart. 

Griselda had said she would have the place to herself, that her son would stay in his room on the third floor. But if she needed to ask him anything to simply slip a note under his door. She would not have any trouble finding it. Oookkaayy...she thought, but as she looked around the place, it was indeed a mess. It was once a grand house, huge, an open entrance that had a chandelier hanging from the high ceiling covered in webs and dust. From here she could see a living room to her right, a library or sitting room to her left. She could see that there was a small hall in front of her near the stairs that led to the kitchen. There was dust EVERYWHERE! 

She made her way to the kitchen thinking that might be the best place to start. There was some evidence of someone having moved about the place, discarded wrappers and boxes from frozen foods, cookies, some two liter bottles. There was a stove, an old fashioned looking fridge, maybe from the 50's, a microwave which surprised the hell out of her, a small table and two chairs. From the kitchen she found another room that looked to be a dining room. She twisted her lips. Whoever this guy was, he ate poorly. Marianne shrugged and began to clean. She put her iPod on and cranked up some Aerosmith. 

From the shadows, eyes watched her. They had been warned to stay clear of the new person in the house. She should be unaware of them and if Bog found out any of them had been seen, there would be hell to pay. But curiosity and a long time without anyone but Griselda coming to the house had the other residents curious. Thang cowered in a dark cabinet with Stuff, each one affected by the curse. Thang resembled a frog-like creature, but with fish-like qualities, while Stuff also resembled a much larger frog with web-like ears. Both of them shared similar coloring which helped them remain hidden from the young woman cleaning their master's house. 

Thang grinned and whispered in a hoarse voice, “You think she is the one?” 

Stuff frowned, her small eyes narrowed as the young woman danced to music they could not hear. “Griselda seems to think so—this is the first one she managed to get into the house.” 

Thang pondered. “What about the blonde one that was here?” 

Stuff rolled her eyes. “Didn't you say she had a boyfriend already?” 

“Oh—yeah.” Thang grinned up at Stuff, his little eyes alight. He had been in love with Stuff now for years, before the curse and even now. He thought her lovely and would be happy if they never changed back as along as he got to be with her. Suddenly Stuff grabbed him, yanking him through the hole in the back of the cabinet that led into the inner walls of the house. It allowed them to move about without being seen. They were quiet as the young brunette came closer, but she didn't open the cabinet. Instead she continued to mop the floor. She was fun to watch, having taken off her tennis shoes after sweeping the kitchen floor and rolled up her pants before she started to mop. She was singing at the top of her lungs dancing with the mop. “I could tell it wouldn't be long he was with me, yeah me!...I love Rock n' Rock!!...dance with me!” 

Soon the kitchen smelled of lemon disinfectant, the garbage was carried out and the windows and counters shown. Marianne grinned, proud of herself. Tomorrow she would tackle the living room. She carried out her cleaning supplies, coming back in to jot down a note when she stopped at the foot of the grand staircase. It was elegant, the handrail thick wood and carved to look like a serpent winding its way down the stairs. She looked up, wondering about the poor man up there. Unable to leave this house, fearful of people, strangers...she wondered if maybe tomorrow she should go up there and introduce herself. 

Worrying her bottom lip for a second or two, Marianne headed up the stairs. The third floor was worse than any other part of the house. As she walked down the landing, it looked as if someone had gone through the place with a wrecking ball. The walls were torn up, anything that resembled furniture was only vague as most of it was in pieces. The frightening thing was the deep claw marks everywhere, like some sort of creature had ripped through the halls. As she walked along the landing, there were several rooms, the doors to which were all gone or clearly broken. Finally, she found a door that was clawed, but intact. She had to assume this was the door to Griselda's son's room. 

Marianne knocked softly, but there was no answer—only the sound of someone moving, almost startled. “I cleaned the kitchen today. Tomorrow, would you like the living room or library?” There was no answer, only the sound of someone shuffling about and then suddenly something slid under the door. Marianne yelped jumping as a piece of paper slid under the door and hit her foot. 

She picked it up. It was written by the same elegant hand as the one on the gate. “Thank you. The library.” 

She smiled a bit. “Okay, library tomorrow. Good night!” 

* 

Bog watched from his window on the third floor. His room had one window that looked down on the fountain below in the center of the house. It was dirty and shadowed, covered in primrose vines so that no one could possibly see him. He watched the young woman walk out to her car and load up her cleaning supplies. He pressed his lips together watching her. He could see that she had short brown hair and a trim figure, though that was all he could really see of her. His heart hammered in his chest, fear racing through him. Someone other than his mother and his servants in the house? He should have simply tracked the other girl down and taken the flower back by force instead of leaving it to his mother. Who would have thought she would have come up with this crazy idea to have this woman come to his home and clean it of all things? 

His mother thought she could break the curse, but Bog knew better. He was doomed and perhaps it was better this way. To remain alone, unloved, in darkness. It was the least that he deserved. He turned away from the window, his wings shuddered with him as he wrapped his rough bark-like arms around himself. It would be over soon, she would have the house clean and it would be over and his mother would give up again and all would be quiet, darkness and shadows as it should be for someone like him. 

* 

After a week, Marianne was starting to have a good time with her new job. She had hours alone in the house cleaning and jamming to her music. She had only received a few notes from the guy upstairs, nothing personal just sometimes money with a list of groceries to get, or other things like picking up some dvds, books...and the notes were always polite. The only thing she had learned about him was that he enjoyed action movies, read a lot and she thought that he might draw because he had asked for her to pick up some color pencils. It peaked her interest. What did he look like? What did he draw up in his room? What had happened to make him want to shut himself off from the world? 

* 

Bog would watch her leave every evening. Blue eyes followed her as she put her supplies in her car, and then she would hop into her driver's seat and speed away. He rubbed the back of his neck with clawed hands, nervous and angry that she was here, but his mother had insisted. Jealous too. She could leave, go out into the world, while he was trapped within these walls, on these cursed grounds. 

He had started to sketch her during the day. His mother visited once a week (that was all he would allow) bringing food and art supplies for him. With his deformed claws, it had taken years to relearn how to hold a pencil, but now he had perfected it. He could draw like he used to before all this, before love doomed him. 

Bog would imagine what her face, Marianne's face, looked like based on things that Stuff and Thang had told him about her, the description his mother had given him, and what little he could see from his third floor window. He gazed at the easel where his sketchpad sat. His focus had been on her eyes, the way Stuff described them. Bog found he wanted to see her face, but he stayed in his room until she was gone each day. NO ONE could see him, not what he was and he would never see her. That was how it simply had to be. After she was gone for the day, then, only then, he would go downstairs and explore the places she had cleaned. It was as if he was sharing the room with her. Each room seemed to hold on to her presence. 

* 

Marianne was spending some time with a case full of silver she found. It was lovely with rather intricate pieces, so she decided today she would sit down and polish them. Today, her music selection was Fleetwood Mac. She sat on one of the old couches in the library, the case beside her, a coffee table in front of her and set about polishing the silver. She had purchased some new glasses with some of the money left for her by the guy upstairs (she really needed to remember to ask Griselda his name.) Anyway, she had bought some new glasses, one of which she had on the table in front of her full of iced tea, sitting on one of the new coasters she had also bought. She also had a plate with some Ritz crackers and peanut butter there to snack on while she worked. She had noticed that the grocery lists the guy upstairs was giving her were getting longer the last few weeks. She figured he was also buying food for her. She smiled, it was sweet really even if he was weird. Okay, not weird, just different. 

The sun was going down, the sun coming filled the room with a lovely warmth as the sun shone in before it started to set. She cleaned up the silver, having removed her iPod and set it on the coffee table as she carried the case of silver back to where she had found it. 

She gathered up the supplies she had brought, taking them out to the car and putting them in the back seat of her VW bug before getting in and taking off for the night. 

* 

Bog watched her leave. He laid his fingers against the glass, his eyes following as she drove off, but then his eyes landed on his clawed fingers pressed against the window and he quickly snatched them back. Bog looked down, closing his eyes. The pain in his chest swelled up to almost choke him. He frowned, opening his eyes to stare at his reflection in the window's glass. He was hideous, nothing would ever change that, nothing and no one. He was doomed to live like this for however long the curse forced him to with no relief, not even in death. He stood there for a long time before he moved away reaching up to scratch the glass with his claws. He was lonely. He felt trapped and isolated, but that was how it had to be, no one would accept him like this...ever. He could barely stand himself, so how could anyone else? He turned and headed downstairs to prepare something for dinner now that she was gone, pushing the loneliness away. 

* 

Marianne was not quite halfway home when she let out a long groan of annoyance. She had left her iPod on the coffee table in the library!! She snarled at herself, turning her car around. She figured he hadn't come out of his room yet. She might have enough time to get in and out. She didn't want to leave her iPod—it would be dead by the time she got here tomorrow! She could not survive without her tunes! 

She eventually pulled up to the fountain, parking her car and quickly rushed to the front door. It was already dark when she opened the door, slowly trying to make very little sound. When she stepped in there was noise coming from the kitchen. It wasn't a lot of noise, but clearly someone was in the kitchen doing something. Marianne pressed her lips together, tip-toeing into the library. Yes! There was her iPod. She moved quietly picking it up, stuffing it into her pocket. Just as she stood up, she saw a shadow dart across the room. She stiffened, her eyes not quite adjusted to the darkness of the room. She didn't move, but nothing else moved in the room. She squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them. “Tired,” she muttered under her breath. She turned heading toward the front door again when she heard someone humming from the kitchen. 

“Don't do it, Marianne,” she muttered to herself. But of course, she was not known for listening to good advice (which made her suddenly realize why Dawn and Sunny broke into this house in the first place, listening to good advice did not run in her family.) She walked quietly and as she got closer to the kitchen she could hear a voice with a clear Scottish accent singing. She had to frown because it sounded like someone singing with their mouth full. 

* 

Bog had poured himself some milk in one of the new glasses with a shot of rum and had pulled out the bag of chocolate chip cookies. He was singing to himself as he looked through the fridge for something for dinner. He didn't really cook anymore. He used to, in the beginning, but as he spent more and more time alone in his rooms he would simply grab something easy or Stuff and Thang would bring him something. Otherwise, he really didn't eat much. Tonight though, he was actually hungry. He was singing an old song by Frank Sinatra, Witchcraft. Why he was in a good mood, or rather a fair mood, he had no idea, but he was singing wth his mouth full of cookie.

He neither heard the front door open, nor did he hear the footsteps. “And although I know its strictly taboo!....proceed with what you're leading me toooo.....” he swung his sharp hips and his wings fluttered. He did a twist like he was dancing, doing a complete turn. As he finished the turn he stopped short when he saw Marianne, the cleaning girl, standing in the kitchen doorway staring. Oh, her eyes were a beautiful shade of amber, he thought for a brief second before she let out the loudest scream he had ever heard, causing him to drop his glass of milk, glass shattering, milk going everywhere as he threw his clawed hands over his ears. 

* 

She stepped closer and peeked into the kitchen, she just had to sneak a look. Her eyes widened slowly, the man in there, she thought it might be a man, had wings, and points and scales and he was eating cookies and dancing to himself and singing Frank fucking Sinatra!! It was a pinecone-cockroach in sweatpants. SWEATPANTS! She would have laughed, but...he had wings...scales...she kept running those words through her mind staring. Marianne wasn't a screamer by nature, hell she never screamed, but at that moment Marianne let out a scream worthy of the finest B-movie scream queen. She screamed loudly. Bog turned, his wings snapped out in fear, he dropped his glass of milk which shattered on the floor, followed by his cookies. 

Marianne was also not a fainter by nature, but this time, Marianne fainted. She started to sink to the floor. The creature caught her before she hit. Just before she truly passed out Marianne noticed that he had dreamy blue eyes for a roach.


	2. Dinner for Two

“Oh shit, oh shit!” Bog lifted her up with no clue what else to do. He hurried into the library where he knew the sofa was long enough to place her and gently laid her down. Thang and Stuff emerged from the darkness of the room where they had hidden in one of their numerous hidden holes into the inner walls. “What happened, BK?” Thang came close to Marianne pulling one of her eyes open until Stuff smacked his hand. “Don't do that!” 

Bog trembled in fear. She had seen him. “Stuff, can you get to my mother's place without being seen?” 

She smiled. “Of course, BK.” 

Bog turned to Thang. “Watch her. I am going to go clean up the glass. If she starts to wake, come and fetch me then hide!” 

Thang saluted. 

Bog cleaned up the glass in a hurry, wincing as he cut the bottom of one foot on some glass. He hurried back to where the girl was lying on the couch just as his mother came bursting through the door. “Bog, what did you do?!” 

“I didn't do anything, MOM!! She came back and caught me in the kitchen!! She wasn't supposed to come back!!” 

Bog looked ready to break down and his mother hurried over to him pulling her giant son down so she could embrace him. “It's okay, Bog honey.” His wings were buzzing like crazy, a sure sign of his nervousness and being overly upset. “Look, go make some hot tea, okay? While you do that, I will check on her.” She smiled and Bog nodded. 

Griselda moved over to where Marianne lay on the couch. She frowned as gazed down at Marianne. She glanced up toward the kitchen, then back down at Marianne. “I know you're awake.” 

Marianne opened one eye when she recognized Griselda's voice. She looked around and then sighed in relief before sitting up. “Oh, my God! You would not believe what I saw!” 

Griselda started to say something when her son came back into the room. “Mom! We only have Earl Grey—is that all right?” He stopped short when Marianne turned to look over the top of the couch at him, her eyes huge and round. He backed up, blue eyes huge and scared, then he turned and fled. The two women could hear the sound of him racing up the stairs and the slamming of his door. 

Marianne turned to stare at Griselda. “What is...what is wrong with him?” 

Griselda came over to sit beside Marianne on the couch. She took the younger woman's hands, holding them with her much older ones looking fragile when her eyes met Marianne's. “Do you believe in magic?” 

* 

Griselda told her the story, of Bog's curse. Marianne wasn't sure how much she believed, but there was something strange going on...what kind of disease left a man with wings? Maybe there was part of her that wanted to believe in magic because she listened to Griselda's tale. 

Griselda gentle pressed Marianne's hands between her own. “Please, I know this is strange, but I need you to stay, to keep doing what you are doing here.” 

Marianne frowned. “Why?” 

Griselda squeezed her hands. “He is lonely and he has resigned himself to never breaking the curse. He needs some sort of interaction beyond just me, Stuff and Thang. I worry what will happen to him if he keeps himself so isolated.” 

Marianne looked confused. “Stuff? Thang?” 

That was when two figures emerged from the darkness. Marianne managed not to scream this time, though she choked a bit. “Stuff and Thang were childhood friends of Bog's, but they also helped him with stealing the flower and...” Griselda sighed. “They became embroiled in the curse as well.” 

The two small creatures, one very frog-like the other...well...okay, Marianne had no idea, saluted her. “Hello, Marianne!” 

Marianne rubbed the bridge of her nose, all of this a bit beyond her realm of understanding. “Okay...I need to go.” She stood. 

“Please dear, don't tell anyone about Bog's curse.” The older woman looked at her with such sorrow that Marianne nodded. “Who would believe me anyway? But yeah, I won't say anything.” 

* 

Griselda made her way up to Bog's room after Marianne left. She knocked softly, but there was no answer. She leaned her ear against the door. She heard him quietly crying, the sound muffled, but she heard him. Her heart broke for her son, one mistake, one intense moment of anger had destroyed him. 

Griselda edged his door open slowly, happy to find it unlocked. If it had been locked she may not have seen him for days. During times like those, he would remain locked in his room in darkness. He wouldn't eat and she could barely convince him to drink anything during those times. She would often find his room destroyed, his art lying about the room in shreds. Bog would be curled in bed refusing to move. There had been times when he had hurt himself badly during those dark periods, but he would always heal. Griselda's biggest fear was that Bog would try to end this curse in the most final way possible, but so far that had not happened. 

* 

She walked into the room to find it nearly completely shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars through the window. She found her son on his bed, a blanket pulled up over him, his wings stuck out the back of it. For a moment she was reminded of him when he was a child hiding from the bully's who use to pick on him for being skinny and taller than anyone else. 

“Mom, go away.” His voice was hoarse. 

His mother came over and sat on the side of the bed, running her hand along his hard spiky shoulder through the sheet “Bog, are you all right?” 

He didn't remove the sheet when he spoke. “She screamed when she saw me, Mom.” 

“Honey, she just wasn't expecting you.” She rubbed his arm tugging at the sheet trying to see his face. It hurt her so much to see his face when she pulled the sheet back. His blue eyes stood out from the redness of his eyes as he stared at nothing. She wiped the tears away that she could see glistening on his sharp cheeks. “Bog...” 

“Why can't this just be over, Mom? I just want it to be over.” Griselda didn't know what to say to comfort him. She stroked her hand over his rough head watching as a tear slid down his pointed nose. 

He rolled his face away from her burying his face, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Go away. Mom, please.” 

* 

On the way home Marianne replayed what she had seen and what she heard. She could easily just not go back, but...he had been singing. He really did have a wonderful voice. And she remembered his eyes, very blue, he seemed so...shy. Then she had screamed and passed out. Wonderful. Bet he really wanted to see her again. 

Marianne sighed. Griselda had said how lonely he was, she could understand that after her break up with Roland. She had been so lonely which was one of the reasons she had moved home. To be around her family, maybe get her life back in order. She drummed on the steering wheel with her hands as she drove. “What to do, what to do?” she muttered to herself. Griselda had asked her not to say anything so she couldn't really ask Dawn or her Dad for advice—this was on her. Stay, clean house and try to befriend the...guy...or leave. By the time she pulled into the driveway, she had made her decision. She could do this, that guy needed a friend. She could understand that, being alone and different with no one to talk to. She smiled. She could do this. 

* 

Bog woke the next morning, his whole body feeling stiff and sore. His eyes felt swollen, his head hurting and heavy. He thought he had heard the sound of a car. He walked to the window looking down at the fountain and froze. Her car was back. He pressed against the window in shock. Yes, yes it was her car! He was frozen, not sure what to do when there was a knock at his door, it was soft but there. 

“Ah, Bog? You mother talked to me last night and she explained some of it, ah...look, I know you probably don't want to see me, but I wanted to let you know that I am going to keep working and if you want to talk, I'm happy to talk.” 

Bog stared at the door. On the other side of it, Marianne stared too. He didn't answer, so after a few moments she turned and headed downstairs deciding to get started on the living-room. She couldn't force him to talk to her. Bog stared at the door after he heard her steps retreating. He rubbed his fingers together before turning away lying back on his bed, his eyes staring at nothing. 

* 

A week went by and Marianne didn't see Bog. No notes, no communication of any kind. Thang and Stuff started coming out more and more to talk to her. They were chatty and soon their appearance seemed perfectly normal. 

* 

She stopped at his room each day to let him know she was there and that he could come down if he wished. He stayed silent. Thang and Stuff had not spoken with him either, his room being one of the few places in the house they could not go. 

Bog would watch her drive up and watch her leave each day. He drew her, now that he had seen her up close, he drew her like never before. The pictures were more detailed, containing more soul in her eyes, there was something about her face that was so real when he drew her. He knew he was torturing himself. A few times he told himself that he could simply go talk to her—she had already seen him. But then the other part of him would remind him of her scream and fainting...he was a monster and there was no denying it. But another person he could talk to, another person...he shook his head and retreated from the sketch pad. He flopped down on his couch, picking up the book from the table staring at it, but not really reading it. 

* 

A few hours later, the sun had set casting the room in darkness. Bog had dozed off, the book on his face, when something woke him up with a start the book falling to the floor wiith a loud bang. The couch he was lying on was shredded in places from when he lost his temper, but otherwise it was still comfortable and functioned. He wasn't really sure what it was that woke him up, a sound, lack of sound? He moved carefully. He could see in the dark because of his “affliction,” but it still paid to be careful. 

He stretched, cracking his back and his wings rattled. Then he pulled his sweat pants up, the damn things having slipped down his hips until he hooked them over the pointy parts. He grimaced when he tore them a little where they caught on his knee. With a sigh he picked up a t-shirt, one that he had cut the arms off of and slipped it on. He became aggravated when his wings got tangled trying to get them through the holes he had put in the back. Finally in a fit of anger he ripped the damn thing up tossing it across the room. His mother was trying to design something he could wear with the wings, but so far it wasn't working out well. 

It was stupid he thought, especially since he never saw anyone, so why try to dress? But he had always tried to hold on to some sort of normalcy despite what he was, but pants had been the only thing he could still wear without causing too much damage. 

He was just thinking about going downstairs to find something to eat when he smelled something. Bog frowned walking toward his bedroom door. Sniffing the air, he opened the door slowly. Yes, there was something cooking. It smelled good, like spaghetti, but different. His mother had not cooked in ages. (Mostly because Bog didn't want her to.) He pretty much survived on frozen meals. 

He came down the stairs carefully. The aroma...it smelled like lasagna. He frowned, he couldn't recall his mom ever making that before as he walked to the kitchen. 

“Mom?” Bog called out as he turned the corner and stopped in shock when he saw Marianne bending over the oven. She stood up pulling the lasagna out, turning to look at him. She was wearing an apron of purple with butterflies all over it, huge oven mitts, her hair sticking up around her face. 

She swallowed. Yep, that was how she remembered him looking, tall, unnaturally thin, wings, rough scale-like hide...sweat pants...torn sweat pants...he started to back up. She could sense he was going to run. He started to turn to flee when her soft voice spoke out. 

“Don't go.” 

He went stiff. She could see his back suddenly become rigid, his wings jerked, the little light coming from the kitchen made the color in them dance. She could almost see the struggle in his shoulders, he wanted to run, but his loneliness made him want to stay. 

“I made this by hand. It would be a shame if no one ate it. Especially since I just pulled it out, nice an hot.” 

Bog turned around gradually, his hands were clasped in front of him, they were long, gnarled and clawed, the fingers intertwined and fidgeting nervously. So that she wouldn't stare, Marianne busied herself by pulling out plates and glasses, setting them on the kitchen counter next to dinner. She yanked open a drawer, taking out silverware. She stopped in the midst of pulling out forks, turning around to look at him when he didn't move from the doorway. “Uh, can you sit at the table?” 

Bog's nervous expression turned exasperated. “Yes, I can sit at the table.” 

She shrugged. “Hey, I don't know! You have those huge wings.” 

“I just move them out of the way, you know.” He frowned. She turned putting her hands on her hips. “Wouldn't it be easier with a stool instead of a chair with a back?” 

He shrugged. “Well, yeah I guess.” 

“Want me to go get one?” Marianne went back to pulling out silverware. Bog looked embarrassed. “No, I can sit.” 

“Can you use utensils?” She turned around coming over to the kitchen table putting down the plates. 

Bog snorted. “Yes, I can use utensils! I'm not stupid.” 

Marianne snapped back. “Hey, I don't know! Your claws are huge, dude! Geez. Sit down and eat.” 

Bog yanked a chair out and sat, crossing his thin scaly arms over his chest. As she set out the plates and such, she got to really look at him in the kitchen's yellow light. He wasn't really as horrifying now that she got to really look at him, seriously unusual, but not...hideous. Okay, maybe other people might think that, but those eyes! His lips weren't bad either, nice really, even with his scowling. Everything about him was sharp, and there were scars across his chin. His cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut glass. 

He glanced up at her, his expression a cross between shyness and fear behind a mask of annoyance, though he was trying to maintain a scowl. He was afraid, really afraid. That was when she realized just how much effort this was taking for him to stay, to sit down and let her “see” him. She smiled at him, the look on his face would almost have made her laugh. His mouth dropped open a bit, but his eyes quickly darted away to stare down at his plate. 

“I hope you like lasagna. It's one of the few things I am pretty good at making, though I make a really mean meatloaf.” She pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge and set it down between them. “There is soda if you want. I just bought some today.” 

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment Marianne's breath was taken away. They were the bluest, most pain-filled eyes she had ever seen. “Uh, no, no, tea is fine thank you.” 

She nodded and set the lasagna on the table using a spatula to cut it into big square pieces. She then used the same utensil to lift a generous amount out, long strings of melted cheese hanging off of it as she plopped it onto his plate. He blinked in confusion at the large portion, glancing up at her. Marianne grinned. “You look like you don't eat much.” 

He gave her a slightly lopsided smile, reaching for his fork. He did hold it a little oddly; his long fingers and claws made it difficult. He had to hold the fork with just two fingers as if he were holding a tiny pick. He had to use a second fork to hold the piece of lasagna in place so he could use the other fork to cut. He worked very delicately. It would have looked awkward, but he did it fairly smoothly which probably had a lot to do with practice. 

Marianne tried not to stare as she ate her own piece. They were quiet, sitting at the table together eating dinner. He looked uncomfortable, folded into the chair, his long legs set wide because he couldn't fit them under the table without lifting it up or hitting her if he spread them out. The sweatpants didn't fit him well, too short, yet too big around the waist, plus his awkward spiked thighs. Poor guy, she thought. 

She was about to ask him if he wanted to go into the library or the living-room to be more comfortable, but she didn't know if that would upset him. So they ate in silence. He did a very good job despite how difficult it was for him. He picked up the glass gingerly, his long fingers could have wrapped around it more than once, she could tell he could probably crush it easily, but he picked it up with his fingers, careful of his claws and sipped slowly. At one point she could see that he was shaking a little trying to control himself and the glass. Finally, dinner was finished. He glanced at her from under his heavily spiked brow. “That was very good. Thank you.” 

She smiled. “You are very welcome!” 

Bog folded his hands in his lap, unsure what he should do. She was cleaning and he thought he should offer to help, but he was afraid to stand next to her, afraid of breaking something or touching her by accident. Marianne glanced over at him. Bog looked torn and confused as if he didn't know what to do with himself. She figured she knew what he was thinking. “I can clean up. Don't worry about it.” 

She filled the sink and started to wash the few dishes. “I bought some ice cream for dessert. I wasn't sure if you liked ice cream or if you did, what flavor, so I just got vanilla.” 

Bog smiled a little. This time she caught a glimpse of his teeth, pointed and crooked. “Yes. I like ice cream. And vanilla is fine.” 

They were both quiet, the awkward silence started to become uncomfortable. 

“So Bog...that's your name, right?” 

She glanced over her shoulder at him again. He nodded. “Aye. Your name is Marianne, correct?” He had been speaking quietly this whole time, it was as if he was afraid of startling her with his voice. 

She grinned. “Yep, that's me.” 

“Thank you, Marianne.” He said it quietly. 

Marianne grinned as she washed the dishes. Bog was still sitting very quietly at the table, which she considered a triumph. When she was finished, she grabbed a couple of bowls out and the quart of vanilla. She spooned out some for both of them sticking spoons in them before handing one to Bog. He looked down at the dessert without moving. Marianne resumed her seat at the table watching him. “Is something wrong?” 

Bog glanced up at her. “Why are you doing this?” 

She frowned. “Well, your mother asked me to stay. She said you were lonely.” 

Bog made a choked noise. 

Marianne added quickly. “Hey, it's okay. I understand. I mean...I don't understand, but I understand being lonely. I thought we should try to be friends.” She smiled and shrugged, taking a bite of her ice cream. 

Bog said nothing for a long time. The ice cream in his bowl started to melt. 

She pointed at his bowl with her spoon. “You should eat it before it becomes soup.” 

He took the spoon delicately again with two fingers, taking a bite of the ice cream. She smiled watching him. He was sorta adorable really, not really cockroachy at all now that she looked at him. He took a couple of more bites, not finishing it as he gingerly set the bowl on the table. She reached over to take it, her fingertips brushed his, just a breath of a touch. Bog snatched his hand back so quickly that the bowl went flying off the table shattering on the floor. Marianne gasped in surprise looking toward the shattered bowl. She heard Bog's intake of breath, then his movement, but when she turned to look over at him she saw just the tips of his wings as he turned the corner disappearing out of the kitchen. She frowned a little. It had simply been an accident...why did he leave so quickly? 

* 

Up in his room, Bog sat on the edge of his bed. He was dumbfounded and trembling. He had been doing so well until the bowl. He snarled at himself. Such an idiot, a clumsy, ugly idiot! But she had stayed and made him dinner, why? She didn't faint or scream. He could tell she was struggling not to stare, but she treated him—nice, not like a monster at all. He didn't really know what to do. It was so far outside what he knew or what he expected that he didn't really know how to process it. 

So instead, he drew. He drew her in the kitchen at the table smiling. When he heard her leave, he stepped to the window watching her. He wasn't sure if it would happen again and he wasn't sure what he would do, but it had been both nice and terrifying.


	3. Flowers, Pizza and TV

The next day Marianne arrived a little later than usual, but her car was filled with top soil and flowers. Her plan was to start working on bringing the backyard and the front yard back to life. Granted, she wasn't done with the inside of the house, but it was sunny today so she figured it was a good time to get started on the yard. 

She wasn't really sure what to do about the primroses except leave them alone and hope they didn't kill her flowers. But right now she could only do one flower bed at a time, so that was what the plan for the day was—get at least one done. She had already gone up to Bog's room and knocked, letting him know she was there. This time he had murmured a good morning, but had not opened the door. She offered to make him breakfast, but he declined. So she threatened him with pizza for lunch. She had heard a soft chuckle in his voice when he responded, stating he would try to come down for lunch. He spoke to her, so she took that as progress. Plus a promise to try to eat lunch with her was even better. She had smiled to herself as she danced down the stairs. Bog had listened to her retreating steps blushing shyly as he sat on the edge of his bed, the room feeling not so dark and lonely for the brief moment her voice traveled through the door. 

* 

Music blared in her ears. She sang along with the song on her Ipod, her hips gyrating with the beat. The song was hitting the best part when she felt her phone buzz. She pulled her iPod headphones out and yanking her phone out of her pocket. One look at the screen made her go very pale...Roland? 

Her heart did an unwanted flip-flop at seeing his name and face on her phone. It had only been a month or so since she broke up with him. She hadn't deleted his number, not really knowing why she hadn't, but…. she shook herself debating whether to take it or not but she waited so long that it finally went to voice mail, the choice made for her. After a moment or two her phone blipped letting her know there was a message. Marianne took a deep breath through her nose before returning the phone to her back pocket. He could wait. She glanced up to where she surmised Bog's room to be, hoping he would eat lunch with her. 

* 

Bog moved quietly downstairs when he realized he did not hear the usual sounds of Marianne moving around the house cleaning. He was confused and a little worried that something had happened to her, so he decided to check on her. He was in the kitchen when he suddenly heard her singing. He looked out the kitchen window to see Marianne singing and dancing with an old rake from the garden shed . She would use the rake to break up the soil and weeds before bending over to pull up weeds and toss them into a growing pile while dancing and singing into the rake's handle. He remembered her catching him doing nearly the same thing. The urge to go out there and speak with her was strong. He leaned on the sink his nose nearly pressed to the window. He chuckled watching her as she swung the rake out singing at the top of her lungs. “I want your ugly! I want your disease! I want your everything! As long as it's free! I want your love! Love, love love!!” wiggling her hips back and forth. 

Bog pressed his hand to his mouth trying not to laugh, but she was having such a good time, just being free outside, dancing and having fun. 

For a moment he wondered what that must be like, to not think about how you look to others, knowing you would cause fear and hatred simply by looking the way you do...but her...she was...amazing...beautiful, carefree...He smiled softly. 

* 

He was back up in his room drawing. Marianne had left for lunch when he heard her return within half an hour. He frowned, moving over to the window to look out. She came in carrying three pizza boxes and a large bag. He had just returned to his sketch, the idea slowly forming in his mind that maybe he could paint again? He could ask his mother to bring him some paints. It had been a very long time since he had painted anything, only just sketching...he jumped when there was a knock at his door. “Okay, I have the pizza! Get your butt down here while it's hot!” 

Bog stared at the door. She was serious! He panicked for a moment staring at the door. But then he took several deep breaths—he could do this. 

* 

Marianne was in the kitchen with the pizza boxes open and plates out. One pizza box was in the living room with a couple of plates. She had no idea where Stuff and Thang hung out all day, but she thought they might appreciate some pizza too. 

She was busy looking for napkins so she didn't hear him enter the kitchen, but when she turned around he was standing in the kitchen doorway resembling for all the world a shy awkward boy, who just happened to be unnaturally tall, with wings and resembling a stick bug. He was slouched, his hands nervously folded in front of him, blue eyes cast downward. He was wearing a pair of shorts this time, equally shredded in places like the sweat pants. He had also attempted to cover his wings by wearing a badly fitting jacket that looked rather uncomfortable, too short in the arms and too tight across his back. As she looked at him, she figured he was trying to make her more comfortable by hiding as much of himself as possible. She smiled. “Hey, I forgot to ask what kind of pizza you like so I got a pepperoni and a cheese. The traditional favorites, but if you want anything special I can run back out.” 

Bog looked down shyly. “Thank you, I like both just fine.” 

That was when he noticed that the regular chairs at the table had been replaced with stools, all of them. His eyes widened in surprise and then he looked back at her. Marianne only smiled as she placed a two-liter of soda on the table with a couple of plastic cups, not glass. “Come on—let's eat while it's hot.” She had set a plate down with a piece of each pizza on it for him. 

Bog sat on one of the stools, which was much more comfortable for him even though he had his wings bound up in the jacket. Marianne plopped down with a smile. “So, can I ask you a question?” 

Bog picked the slice of pepperoni up and she was impressed with how delicately he could use his claws. He looked up at her lifting a brow. She grinned. “What kind of movies do you like? Your mom said I would have some money to buy you a flat screen and some blurays when I mentioned that you looked like you could use some more entertainment. I thought it might be fun if we had a movie night sometime soon.” 

Bog delicately took a bite of his pizza chewing slowly before answering. “A movie night? With me?” 

She grinned as she pulled her pizza away, a long string of cheese floated between her mouth and the piece of pizza. Giggling she pulled the cheese away breaking it and stuffing it into her mouth. Chewing a little then around her bite, “Why not?” 

“Well, I would think that you would want to be away from here. At night...don't you have...I don't know ...a boyfriend?” Bog looked shyly at her. 

Marianne surprised him when she made a very rude noise. “I did, once, but not now.” 

When she didn't offer to say more Bog didn't push. The over-the-top noise seemed a bit put on, though he didn't know her well enough to say for sure. If she didn't want to talk about it, who was he to push? They ate quietly for a few minutes when Marianne asked, “What do you do up there all day?” 

She watched as Bog picked up a napkin and delicately cleaned his claws. It was really impressive the way he handled himself. It made her wonder how long it took him to be able to do that. The wings still seemed to be an issue for him though, which made her wonder if he had really tried to use them. Could he fly? Did he even know what he could do? 

Bog looked at his claws as he spoke. “I draw and I read.” 

She studied a piece of pepperoni. “Do you know how to play poker or any card games?” 

“No.” Bog frowned. 

A slow grin grew along her lips. “Want to learn?” 

Bog blushed, smiled a little. “Ah...sure.” 

She watched him, studying his claws for a moment and then humphed. “Okay, regular cards will be too small...I will think of something.” 

Bog stood. “Please don't trouble yourself, Marianne.” 

She made a face at him. “I choose to ignore you.” Making a flamboyant hand gesture of dismissal, she gave him a stunning smile that made Bog's heart do a somersault in his chest. 

* 

After lunch with a LOT of begging, Marianne convinced Bog not to go back to his room, but to sit outside while she worked on her flowerbed. At one point she reached out to grab one of his hands, not even thinking about the claws or whether Bog would like being touched. He snatched his hands back so swiftly pulling them up against his chest, wrapping his clawed fingers together his blue eyes wide with fear and shock that Marianne wanted to smack herself. “Sorry,” she whispered. Then taking a breath, she said, “Bog come on. It would be nice to have someone to talk to while I work and some sunlight would be good for you, I bet.” 

Bog stammered. “I—I—I don't...know...” 

Marianne tilted her head. “Please.” 

Bog stared at her. As Marianne looked at him she was struck again by just how beautiful his eyes were, his long nose and sharp chin were...charming. She blinked at her thought, but smiled. “Come on, Bog...” 

He sighed a small smile on his lips. “Alright, just for a little bit.” 

She grinned happily. Bog followed her outside walking with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. His wings would occasionally twitch and he winced a little which made Marianne frown slightly. His wings pressed down by that uncomfortable jacket probably hurt a little. Poor guy. Bog stayed bent over as they walked out back together. He frowned, something haunted moved across his eyes as he gazed at the back garden, or rather the ruins of it, and the long crawling vines of primroses everywhere. The primroses were beautiful flowers, but...Bog shook his head to clear the memories. He found an old bench against the house, one that his father had built when Bog was a child. He sat on the edge of the old wood as Marianne picked up her rake again. 

“So, I thought about asking your mother about putting in a pond for koi fish back here. I mean you have enough room and it would be nice. We could come out here and feed the fish.” 

Bog blinked staring at her. Did she just say we? 

“It would be pretty, I guess,” he murmured softly. 

* 

When she arrived home that evening she was tired. Bog had stayed out for almost an hour before she could sense he was starting to panic. She had told him she was finished for the day and he had rushed upstairs. After cleaning up, she had gone up the stairs to knock softly and let him know she was leaving for the day. He had answered her with a soft good bye. She had smiled all the way home. 

* 

That evening she sat on her computer looking for playing cards that would work with Bog's hands. She had sent off an email to Griselda letting her know that she thought the flat screen and bluray player would be a great idea to open up Bog's world a bit more. She had also asked for a popcorn maker. She was going to turn the master bedroom on the second floor—with Griselda's permission—into a theater for Bog. She grinned to herself after shooting off the email. This was going to be great! Once the bed was out of there and the room cleaned and some more furniture moved in from around the house, it would be perfect! 

After a few minutes of searching, she found some jumbo playing cards for poker and placed an order not even thinking about the fact that she was using her own money for the purchase. Her only thought was that Bog would be able to handle the cards in his larger clawed hands easier. 

* 

Griselda smiled after reading Marianne's email. A theater room for Bog. She had been trying to convince Bog to let her do something similar, but he had steadfastly refused, no tv, no computer, no phone, he had wanted nothing to connect him to the outside world. The boy was determined to punish himself far more than the witch ever had. She shook her head, yes Marianne was going to be good for him even if nothing happened beyond friendship. Though she was not ready to give up on something more powerful blooming between the two of them. She wrote an email back letting Marianne know to come by her house in the morning and she would have a check for her to get everything she needed. She hit send and smiled. 

* 

Marianne shut off her computer. She was grinnning as she thought about what movies to have Bog watch with her while she got ready for bed. Mentally she made a list in her head thinking about how cute Bog must look when he laughed. She had just slipped under the covers when she remembered the message from Roland on her phone. She grabbed her cellphone and went to her voice mail. 

* 

“Hey, my beautiful buttercup. I miss you. Heard you moved home. Look, please give me a second chance. I love you. I want this to work. Call me.” 

* 

Marianne stared at her phone. Some of the old feelings resurfaced. She had loved him, but now, after the betrayal, it didn't seem like love anymore. She was beginning to think that maybe she loved the idea of Roland. A guy so good-looking wanting to be with her. She smirked at herself setting her phone on her bedside table. Guess she could understand Bog better than she thought if the story his mother told her was true. She had known what kind of guy Roland was, heard the rumors, even caught him in some compromising situations. But she had wanted so strongly to believe that he loved her, that she took his explanations as truth. The last time though she had had his infidelity thrown in her face, nothing he could say would possibly explain away what she saw. So she had broken up with him, throwing his ring onto a busy street and while he ran out to get it, she had gone. Moved out of their apartment and back home. Griselda said Bog had burned magical primroses....magic...if magic were real...She rolled over pulling her blankets up closer around herself. She closed her eyes, but images of a pair of blue eyes in a sharp unusual face came into her mind. She started wondering, could he fly? 

She giggled softly, but the scene where Thumbelina meets the fairy prince for the first time and he takes her flying...she started to imagine her and Bog flying together. She imagined them singing the duet from the movie. Screwing her eyes shut tighter, she snuggled into her pillows giggling. She fell asleep with the image of Bog holding her and flying her into the night. 

* 

Marianne arrived at Griselda's after going to a drive-thru for some coffee. She was excited about getting Bog a tv and bluray player. She had a stack of her own blurays in her car for them to watch together tonight. She hadn't even thought about how she had just decided to hang out with Bog. She was also planning to purchase the makings for tacos! She was so excited to spend the time with him, it never occurred to her to ask herself why. 

* 

Later that morning, Bog's mother had stopped by to let him know that Marianne was still coming over, but she had some things to do first. When his mother entered Bog's room, she was surprised by the amount of sketches around his room. He had hung many of them and they were all of Marianne. She didn't say anything about the subject of his drawing. He was busy at the easel working on a new sketch, his claws and fingers stained with charcoal. Without turning, focused on his work, he asked, “Mom, do you think you could get me some paints?” 

His back was to her when he spoke, still maintaining his focus on his art. He wore a pair of shorts that hung just short of his knees, but no shirt. To his mother's keen eyes, he looked comfortable; his wings buzzed a bit, which usually made him upset, but he wasn't hiding them at the moment. All his concentration was on the beautiful sketch. 

Griselda smiled, but murmured not wanting to break whatever spell was happening. “Oil, water...?” 

Bog turned just enough to look over his shoulder at her. “I think water and some canvas for them?” 

“Of course dear.” Her heart soared—he wanted paints! 

He smiled at his mother and she thought for a moment she might die on the spot of a heart-attack. It had been years since she had seen that smile, a real smile that reached his eyes. “Ah, I will bring them by tomorrow, dear?” 

Bog's eyes were bright. “That would be perfect, mother.” 

* 

Marianne pulled up to the fountain running into the house. “BOG!!” she took the stairs two at a time, making her way up to his room. She knocked quickly. “Bog, I have a truck coming to deliver the TV! Just wanted to warn you!” Then she was running back down the stairs. Bog had jumped when she first yelled, but now he was at the window looking out. A delivery truck had followed her car to the house. She had them follow because otherwise she wasn't sure they would have found the place. Bog stayed in the shadows of his room as he watched the chaos below. He smirked when 

Marianne put her hands on her hips yelling at the two men who were mishandling the tv making both men snap to attention. Finally they were out of sight, but he could hear the continued chaos in the stairwell. 

Bog pressed his ear to the door, his heart hammering. He was scared and angry. Not at Marianne, but that there were strangers in his house. He dug his claws into the wood trying to control his temper. He heard Marianne telling them where to place things, then some talking, the sound of stomping feet and then he moved back to the window to watch as the men got into the truck and drove off. Marianne had followed them out and locked the gate behind them. She was back in her car pulling out a box that she had to balance against her stomach that she carried in. 

“BOG!! Can you help me out?!” He heard her voice travel up the stairwell. She was pretty good at yelling, he noted. He opened his door slowly, peaking out, but just then she yelled again. “BOG!! This is heavy!” 

He snarled to himself softly, more like a muttered curse, but there was a tiny grin on his lips. She sounded so urgent that he rushed down without thinking to try to cover his wings to find Marianne trying to get up the stairs with the box. He reached out taking it from her, careful not to touch her hands or arms which almost caused them both to drop the box. 

“What is in here?” Bog frowned, but Marianne grinned. “Blurays! And we have a popcorn maker in the kitchen. We are going to have a movie night!” 

* 

Roland pulled up in front of Marianne's childhood home. She had never returned his message. He had thought about calling back again, but decided the best way to get her back was to just show up. He had the back of his sports car filled with flowers and a card professing his eternal love. As he drove up, though, he didn't see Marianne's car anywhere. He almost decided to head back to his hotel room, but he thought it over for a moment, he got out and knocked hoping that maybe Dawn was here. 

Dawn jumped up running to the door and yanked it open, hoping it was Sunny. “Roland?” 

“Hey, Dawn! “ 

* 

Marianne grinned looking completely proud of herself. She had the tv and player hooked up. With Bog's help they pushed the old bed out of the way and carried a couch from the library up the stairs for them to sit comfortably and watch movies. She had a lot of work to do in here to make it into a real “theater room,” but for tonight it would do. 

“I got some stuff to make tacos for dinner. Do you like tacos?” She glanced at Bog who was leaning over examining the large television. 

“Yes.” He turned to look at her and for a moment the dream of him flying her came back full force. She blushed glancing down at her tennis shoes. “Okay, well, ah...I will go make dinner.” 

She did a twirl and headed downstairs. Bog watched her go with a quizzical look on his face. He had interacted with her enough to believe that she was acting a bit oddly. He shrugged and went back to examining the tv and then walked over to the box where the bluray's were stacked inside. He crouched down picking up a couple of the plastic cases. Some of them were old movies, Harvey, Arsenic and Old Lace. There were a couple of classic horrors, too, such as Alien and The Thing. He chuckled and nodded to himself—Marianne had good taste in movies. 

After a few minutes of him puttering around the room straightening it up here and there, even going off to a linen closet in one of the other rooms where his mother kept extra blankets for him and bringing them in here to drape along the couch and a few for covering Marianne's legs if she got cold. Bog straightened, looking over the way he had set everything up, pleased with himself. He could smell hamburger cooking from the kitchen and then he grinned when he heard Marianne singing while she cooked. 

He was about to make his way downstairs to the kitchen when he heard Marianne's phone ring. He stopped on the stairs. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he didn't want to disturb her phone call. 

* 

“Hey, Dawn, what's up?” 

Marianne was stirring the meat when her sister hissed. “Roland's here!!” 

“What?” Marianne stopped what she was doing, her eyes going wide and staring at nothing. 

“What do you mean he's here?” 

Dawn sounded flustered. “He just showed up! With a bunch of flowers! He is in the living room talking to Dad!” 

Marianne let out an impressive string of curses. “Alright, I will be right there.” 

She shoved her phone back into her back pocket and turned to see Bog standing slouched, in the kitchen doorway. 

“You have to go.” He said it softly. 

Marianne frowned. She was really looking forward to this tonight and she had not realized how much until she had to leave. 

“Everything is cooked and chopped. If I can, I will come back, but I have to run home and take care of something, okay?” Marianne pulled off the apron she had on, tossing it onto one of the stools. 

“Can I take a rain check? We will have our movie night tomorrow?” 

Bog nodded though he didn't meet her eyes. Marianne felt her chest tighten. “I promise nothing will get in the way tomorrow.” She gave him a smile and then hurried past him, running to her car. 

Bog didn't move. He simply watched her leave feeling a tight pain in his chest. He was still standing there when Stuff and Thang came out. “Hey BK, what happened?” Stuff looked up at him, her little eyes concerned. 

Bog shrugged. “There is food in the kitchen. Try not to make a mess.” Then he simply walked upstairs heading to his room. 

Thang frowned. “I thought they were going to watch movies?” 

Stuff chewed her lip and then sighed. “Hungry?” 

Thang grinned. “Boy, am I!” 

The two of them went into the kitchen to have tacos. 

* 

Bog sat on his bed, his hands hanging down between his thin legs, his fingers intertwined. He...she had said he was here...He wondered if this was the same “he” that had made Marianne unhappy. It also surprised him at how disappointed he was that they were not spending the evening together. He smiled sadly at himself. 

“Such a fool, Bog, you have always been such a fool.”


	4. Creep

Marianne pulled up in front of her dad's house and there indeed was Roland's car. She sat in her own car for a moment cursing to herself, gripping and ungripping her steering wheel. She wasn't completely sure how she felt about him being there. Annoyed—definitely annoyed—because she had come home to get away from him. A tiny bit excited he came out here for her? Maybe, not sure about that one. Angry, oh yes, angry, because Roland was a big, fat cheating jerk. As she sat there in her car glaring at Roland's slick sports car, she felt a mix of feelings, a turmoil in the pit of her stomach that threatened to come up in verbal vomit or just her getting sick in her car. 

She drummed her fingertips on the steering wheel relaxing her grip; she was so confused. But what really made her feel odd was that she was upset about leaving Bog like that...He hadn't said anything, but she had seen his eyes, the disappointment there and she had felt it too. She had really been looking forward to tonight, until Roland ruined it. 

She took a deep breath and got out of her car. 

When she walked inside the house, she could hear muffled voices coming from the right and as she turned the corner into the living room, she found Roland sitting comfortably with her father and Dawn. When Dawn saw her sister her light blue eyes widened with the universal sign of “Help!” but when her Dad saw her, he smiled. “Look who came to see you, sweetie!” 

Roland stood and flashed that smile at her that she used to find charming, his blonde hair perfectly coiffed, teeth somehow managing to catch the light, and in that moment Marianne was sure that whatever flutters she had felt for Roland were dying. Even his nicely tailored suit made her want to sock him in the jaw where not that long ago she had thought him so handsome. 

He walked over taking both her hands in his much, much too soft ones. “My buttercup! I've missed you!” He leaned in to kiss her, but Marianne managed to lean just out of the way, so that his kisses only met the air by her cheek. 

“Roland, what are you doing here? The idea of coming home and breaking up with you was so I didn't have to see you again.” 

Roland's smile fell slightly, but he held her hands pulling her into the living room where her father gave her that “Look, he came for you” expression. Roland sat on the couch seating Marianne beside him. She didn't fight it at the moment, not with her sister and Dad here, but when Roland tried to hold her hand in his lap, she yanked it back onto her own. 

“Your father told me you were working as a cleaning lady?” Roland looked shocked and slightly upset for her. “That is really a step down, Marianne. I would happily take you back into the firm.” Roland gave her that smile that was quickly starting to make her want to punch him—really hard—in his perfect teeth. 

“Roland, I don't want to be your secretary anymore. I like my job here.” 

Her father cringed. Cleaning lady was not a job he liked to think of his eldest daughter doing. Roland tsked. “Marianne, really? Cleaning a house for some weirdo who can't face the rest of the world. I mean really, it's pathetic. Pathetic to be working for some freak when you had such a wonderful job working for me!” Roland smiled. “And we were going to be married! You ran away, giving up everything to run home and be a cleaning lady?” 

Marianne's hands in her lap balled into fists. Granted, she had run away. She had caught Roland cheating on her and it had hurt like hell. So she had run away, ran home without confronting him. 

“Look, Roland. You cheated on me. You wanted the perfect trophy wife to take to parties and do your work for you while you screwed around. You thought you could have your cake and eat it too? Well not with me, not now—not ever!” With that, Marianne stood up from the couch and turned on her heel, heading up the stairs to her room. 

* 

Marianne thought it would hurt to really, ultimately break it off with Roland. Actually, she surprised herself. She had thought that if he showed up she would take him back. But then he did show up and she told him off instead. Marianne giggled. She was surprised at how freeing it felt to tell him off. A few minutes later there was a soft knock at her door. Marianne narrowed her eyes at the door, but that was more a Dawn knock than a Roland knock so she walked over opening it a crack. 

Dawn grinned. “Wow, Marianne!! I don't think Roland knew what to do!” 

Marianne chuckled, grabbing her sister and pulling her into her room. “Is he gone?” 

“Yeah he took off, but Dad invited him to dinner this weekend.” Dawn made a face. 

“Oh, my god!” Marianne threw herself onto her bed, glaring at the ceiling annoyed. “What is he thinking?” 

Dawn shrugged. “Roland has him convinced it's all a misunderstanding.” 

Marianne rolled her eyes. Dawn came over and laid on the bed beside her. “So are you really happy working over at that house? I mean, that wasn't just for Roland?” 

Marianne smiled. “Yeah, actually I am.” 

“So what about the guy in the attic?” Dawn rolled onto her stomach next to her sister. 

Marianne glanced over at her. “He doesn't live in the attic. Geez, you make it sound like he is Quasimodo.” 

Dawn shrugged. “Well, it's weird. I mean I didn't know anyone was even living there when Sunny and I went in.” 

“Don't you mean broke in?” Marianne grinned. Dawn stuck her tongue out. 

“He's nice. A little grumpy, but he has reasons to be that way.” Marianne rolled onto her stomach laying her head down on her hands. 

Dawn did the same so that the sister's were looking at each other. “Do you like him?” Dawn asked softly. 

Marianne frowned in thought and then smiled. “Yeah, I do. He is strangely sweet. Granted, we have only talked a couple of times and he is awkward and shy.” 

Dawn frowned. “Why does he stay up in his room all the time?” 

Marianne smiled at her sister. “I can't really talk about it, but he has a good reason.” 

“I'm glad you like him and like working there. You have seemed happier.” Dawn gave her sister a sweet smile. 

Marianne had a quirky look on her face. “I think I am a little bit.” 

Dawn reached over hugging her sister with one arm. “Marianne, don't let anyone make you sad again.” 

* 

The next morning Marianne left the house bright and early. She had decided that to make up to Bog for last night she was going to make him pancakes for breakfast. She hadn't made pancakes in ages. Curses aside, Bog was skinny. She was willing to bet he had been skinny when he looked human too. She had gotten up especially early so she could grab some syrup, eggs and another gallon of milk. 

* 

Marianne was completely unaware of Roland following her. If she had thought he would do such a thing, she might have been on alert, but because it never occurred to her that he would resort to stalking she never realized that his car was behind her. He stayed a couple of cars back following her to the store, watched her when she arrived at that ugly, old house, opening the gate, driving in, then coming back a few seconds later to close the gate. He parked his car out of the way, hidden by some trees and bushes. Roland made his way to the house, staying hidden in the shadows on the tree lined street. 

Looking through the gate, he could just see the back end of Marianne's car. There seemed to be a fountain and he could see the house. What a fucking piece of crap, Roland thought. He frowned. Someone needed to tear that monstrosity down, build some apartments or something that would be a better use of the land, he mused. He tried the gate gently. Nope, Marianne had locked it pretty good. 

Roland decided to walk around the fence; except for the gate the rest of it was brickwork. He wanted to see if there was a way he could get onto the grounds. He didn't really want to climb the fence, but if he had to he would. 

* 

Marianne was humming softly when she arrived at the house. She brought in the groceries, then took the stairs two at a time up to Bog's room. She was about to knock on Bog's door to let him know she was there and that she was going to make breakfast when she heard his voice. He was singing to himself, his voice low, but she could still make out the words. She grinned. He was singing a RadioHead song. She pressed her ear to the door and listened closely to see if she could make out the words. Her eyes widened. He was singing that song Creep?? What the hell? 

“I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul, I want you to notice...” She could hear him slightly muffled. It also sounded like he had moved further into the room. When she could hear him more clearly again he was humming. It sounded like he was doing something else besides singing, like he was writing? No, drawing? A pencil on paper? 

Marianne squatted down. This house was old enough that it had keyholes for real-life old fashioned metal keys. It wasn't a big keyhole, keyholes large enough to see nearly a whole room only existed in movies, but she could still see a very tiny keyhole shaped spot of the room. 

She didn't see Bog, only a hint of a chair maybe, or was that the leg of a bed? She heard movement and then she caught a glimpse of Bog's legs. There was a rattle of something hitting the wood flooring. She didn't quite catch it, but it looked like a piece of charcoal rolled by? He picked it up, continuing to sing softly, now out of her tiny frame of viewing. 

Marianne was about to sit back when she lost her footing, falling backwards and landing on her butt. She squealed when she hit the floor. Suddenly Bog's bedroom door flew open. He was cast in shadow for a moment, a menacing figure with rattling wings. Marianne had to swallow a scream. It wasn't that she was scared exactly, just startled. But then her eyes adjusted and she saw Bog standing there in a pair of nearly shredded pants. Bog, who's face was set in an expression of violent anger which quickly fell away when he spied Marianne. “Oh, Marianne, are you alright?” 

Bog started to reach for her, but he caught a glimpse of his clawed hand reaching for her much smaller one and he snatched his hand back to his chest. 

She blushed. “I'm fine. Just tripping over my feet.” 

He watched her pull herself to her feet feeling bad for not helping her up. He had been convinced that she wouldn't come back today. He had berated himself for feeling upset about someone he didn't know that much, then about developing feelings for said person. He had been up all night beating himself up, he was stupid, he was worthless, Bog had a whole mental chant down to perfection that listed his faults. Of course, Marianne would have someone else in her life. Whoever the guy that hurt her...he was still human looking and even if the 'he” hadn't been that guy, there would be others. She was gorgeous, funny and smart and she could have any guy she wanted. 

Bog shook those thoughts away now. “Why are you here?..” Then he quickly added. “I mean, this early? Why are you here this early?” 

Marianne dusted off her backside thinking for a moment she needed to drag a vacuum up these stairs. “I thought I might make you breakfast this morning since I missed our dinner. How was it?” 

Bog frowned in confusion. “How was what?” 

“The tacos?” 

Bog frowned then dropped his gaze. “I didn't eat. You would have to ask Thang and Stuff.” 

“Bog...you didn't eat? You mean you haven't eaten since....” She snapped her mouth shut then narrowed her eyes. “Get your skinny ass downstairs. You are eating pancakes.” 

With that she marched off down the stairs. Bog's blue-eyed gaze followed her as she vanished. He pressed his lips together in a smile. 

* 

Roland had found a spot at the far end of the property where the bricks were brittle and there was some damage. It looked like a tree branch had fallen and smashed some of the brick and weakened the rest of the structure in a small patch, but it was enough for him to climb and get himself over. Ugh! He had to get his hands dirty! 

Now he was making his way, hiding behind bushes, a tree, some broken garden sculpture of some sort as he hurried along. So far he had seen nothing, no one. The grounds were a mess, these fucking pink and purple flowers grew everywhere! Stupid things. Roland would have gotten out here with weed killer. Okay, he would have hired someone to get out here with weed killer. He hated flowers, only ever got them to make the numerous women in his life feel special. Otherwise, they were stupid and a waste of space. 

Plus the fucking things kept tripping him up! If he had an imagination he would think the flowers were deliberately messing with him! But he did finally make it to the back of the house. 

* 

Marianne had grabbed her apron and was already well into making the pancakes when Bog shyly entered the kitchen. Pointing with the spatula, Marianne indicated a stool at the kitchen table with a silent command to sit, then she gave him a sunny smile. “Good! Do you want milk or orange juice?” 

“Milk please.” Bog sat on the stool for a moment feeling like a little boy when he had gotten into trouble with his mother. He knew he was in trouble, but not really sure why he was in trouble. They were both quiet until Bog took a breath. “I..did, ah...was everything alright last night? You...ah...left in a hurry.” 

He didn't look at her when he spoke, fiddling with his claws back and forth making them click. Marianne flipped a pancake. “Yeah. My old fiancé showed up. He wants me back, but I told him I didn't want him.” 

She wasn't looking at Bog, putting pancakes on a plate, so she didn't see the change in his expression. His eyes lit up and he grinned, but both things were quickly shut down. He had no reason to get excited about it. Seriously...he reasoned mentally with himself, but he was happy that Marianne didn't seem upset. 

“Oh. How....uh...how come, if you don't mind my asking?” 

Marianne turned, walking over with a plate stacked with more pancakes than Bog thought he could possibly eat. She sat the plate down in front of him, the pancakes looking perfectly round. She talked while she got the butter and syrup for him. “Well, he cheated on me. I turned a blind eye because I loved him. And I know he had cheated on me before, but I always let him talk himself out of it because I thought, yeah he had sex with these women, but he loves me...then I just realized that was not how love works.” She shrugged, walking back to the oven. “So when his cheating was thrown right in my face one day I said enough and came home to clear my head and start over.” 

Bog put butter on his pancakes. “Why were you so in love with him that you ignored the first signs of his cheating?” 

Bog bit his bottom lip after the question dropped from his lips. Why did he ask her that? 

Marianne snorted. “He was so good-looking, charming, just everything a girl is taught she wanted in a guy. I was stupid, very stupid.” 

They were both quiet while Marianne made herself a plate before walking over to sit on a stool next to him. 

“What about you? This curse, the girl you got cursed over...” 

Bog moved a piece of pancake around in the syrup on his plate. The fork looked like a dollhouse utensil in his big hands. “I thought I was in love. Desperately in love. I'm sure my mom told you the story.” 

Marianne nodded, fixing her pancakes with butter and syrup. “She did. I was just curious about the story from your point of view. I mean since we seem to be sharing this morning.” She gave him such a grin that Bog's insides unknotted slightly. 

“Yeah, I guess we are. There isn't much to tell. I wanted her to love me in return so much I tried to use magic and it backfired.” 

They were both quiet. Marianne finally whispered, “Magic is real.” 

Bog nodded. “Aye, very real.” 

* 

Outside Roland was cursing under his breath as he tried to get close to one of the windows. The damn flowers kept getting caught around his ankles! There were a few thorny bushes that cut his arms and managed to get him through his pants. He tripped finally, falling to his knees with a hissed curse of pain cutting his knees on some hidden rocks. He got up only to see that his pants were ripped. Snarling, Roland pushed his way through the foliage, finally finding a window! He stood up on his toes. Damn it, the window's dirty, he thought. He couldn't get a good look inside the damned house. He balled his hand into a fist and rubbed the side of his hand against the glass creating a smudged circle. It was a little clearer. 

He peered through the glass. There were two figures. It took him a few moments of squinting his eyes, okay, it looked like a kitchen...wait! There was Marianne! Roland sneered, looking around then he saw a shadow over at the corner. He couldn't quite see who it was, though the person was tall, very tall. Balancing on his tiptoes Roland pressed his nose to the glass trying to see who the other figure was, the figure shifted and for a brief moment he saw...scales?? Spikes??? Were those...wings??? Roland yelped losing his balance and fell backwards. 

* 

Bog jerked. “What was that?” Marianne stood up, frowning. Bog started to get up, but Marianne surprised him by reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “It's probably nothing, but you sit here and finish your breakfast.” Her hand stayed on his arm for a moment longer than necessary. Their eyes met. Then she smiled at him and went out into the back. 

* 

Roland took off at a run. He had seen a monster!! It was a monster!! Marianne had a monster for a boss!! The crazy shut-in was a monster!! He ran across the backyard falling and tripping trying to make his way to where he had crawled over the fence then raced around to his car. He had to tell someone!!There was a monster!! 

* 

Marianne heard something, but when she got out the back door she didn't see anything, though there were so many overgrown bushes and since the damn primrose's were everywhere she doubted she could have seen anything anyway. Shrugging, she stepped back inside. 

* 

Roland got in his car, hitting the gas so hard he almost spun out. He had to find the police!!! Someone needed to know about the monster!! 

* 

Bog helped Marianne clean the kitchen after breakfast. He carried the dishes to the sink for her and she set about washing them. “So...” Marianne didn't look over at Bog, watching her hands while she washed. “What were you up to this morning?” 

Bog frowned, yanking on the band of his pants that wanted to fall off his slim hips. “What? Oh..uh...nothing.” 

She nodded. “So, want to try our movie night tonight?” 

“If you would like...” Bog's wings fluttered just a little. 

Marianne tilted her head. “Have you ever tried flying?” 

“Flying?” Bog looked confused. 

“Well, you have those wings; I'm just curious if you ever tried flying?” She smiled. 

“Nooo...” Bog answered like it was a rather silly question. 

“Why not?” Marianne asked flinging the dish towel over her shoulder and turning. She leaned her backside against the sink. “I mean if I had wings, flying is the first thing I would try!” 

“What if someone saw me!” Bog looked horrified, holding his hands in front of him, his long claws interlaced and twitching. 

Marianne grinned. “You have plenty of land around here and besides, no one comes near this house...my sister doesn't count. And if anyone did see you, who is going to believe them?” 

* 

Roland raced into town speeding down the street trying to find where this small heehaw of a town kept its police. He turned running through a stop sign and was greeted by the sounds of a police siren. He pulled over, the cop coming up behind him. Yes!! A policeman! Roland quickly rolled his window down and then anxiously drummed his fingers on his steering wheel, waiting for the police to come to the window. “Sir, do you know how fast you were driving?” 

Roland was happy when he saw it was a woman, perfect! Women loved him! “Officer, I was speeding because I have to make a report! I saw a monster!” 

The officer, a statuesque blonde with a pixie cut and hard blue eyes stared at him. “A monster, sir?” 

Roland nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes! It had wings and had to be at least eight, maybe nine feet tall! And it was all scales and spikes!” 

The police officer nodded. “Sir, I want you to exit the car...” 

* 

Dagda was sitting in his recliner; he had the house to himself. He grinned, no daughters here to get after him about what he was eating! Marianne was at work and Dawn was at college. He had his coffee, his book and a doughnut, a perfect morning, when he got a phone call. He picked up the cell phone, damn thing always annoyed him with all the touch screens. He had the worst time with the stupid contraption. After a few moments of fumbling he was able to answer the phone. “Hello?” Dagda always held it to his ear like it might explode. 

“Mr. Summerfield, This is Roland Knight. Sir, could you come get me out of jail?”


	5. A Kiss on the Cheek

That afternoon Marianne decided to vacuum those blasted stairs. As she stood at the base of the long staircase looking up, she could understand why a house this size would have had a staff in the past and also why no one had bothered with them. It was going to be a pain in her ass. Bog came out of the library holding several books that he planned to take up to his room when he saw Marianne standing there with his mother's ancient vacuum cleaner. “I can carry that up for you, if you like?” Bog looked shy and awkward, but clearly wanted to help. 

“Sure, that would be great.” Marianne groaned and dropped the relic. Bog, holding his books with one hand gathered up the hose, cord and handle of the vacuum, picking everything up with one large hand turning. “Where did you want this?” 

Marianne grinned. “Oh, just the next floor for now.” 

Bog easily carried everything up the stairs and set it down for her, then with a smile, his lips pressed together so as not to show too much of his fanged grin, he headed up the stairs. She watched him go, followed by the soft click of his door closing. 

* 

Bog set the books down—books on flowers and other plants. They had been his father's, the garden around this place had been his Da's pride and joy before his death. Bog wanted to know what sorts of flowers had grown in the garden before Bog had destroyed it, before the primroses had taken over everything. He also thought that maybe he could help Marianne bring the place back to life. 

He wasn't really sure why he wanted to bring the garden back, but he did—for her. 

He also wanted pictures of flowers for the portrait he was working on. All the sketches that filled his sketch book were of Marianne. Sketches of her cooking in the kitchen, mopping floors, or covered in dirt, but with a bright smile on her face. He wanted to paint her for several reasons, but the main one, his own secret reason that he kept hidden in his heart, he wanted it for when she was gone. 

The painting he planned was of Marianne in a garden, as a fairy, surrounded with flowers. He turned to look at the sketches where they lay. The light from the window cast sunlight on them, Marianne smiling brightly, a creature of light and sunshine. Bog's blue eyes softened, gazing at the image of beauty. 

* 

Dagda arrived at the police station pulling his car up and parking by a meter in front of the building. Roland hadn't gone into details about why he was in jail, only that it was a mistake. Dagda walked in, looking toward the front desk clerk. “Ah, excuse me sir, but I am here to pay the bail for a Roland Knight?” 

The young man at the desk smirked. “Oh, the loon? Sure thing—follow me to the bailiff.” Dagda frowned, the loon? Oh, darn maybe the boy had gone out drinking after what Marianne had said, after driving down here to talk to her...poor boy. Dagda sighed, following the young officer. He paid the bail and then took a seat waiting for Roland to be escorted out. The young man, for only having been in jail for a short time, looked a wreck. His clothes were so dirty, he had scraps and tears all over his clothing, his hair was sticking out in a blonde explosion. He did indeed look like a loon. Dagda stood up as Roland came out. They quietly waited while his belongings were brought out by a bored looking officer. Roland signed for everything and then they headed out to Dagda's car. 

“You wanna tell me what happened, son?” Dagda asked after they had settled into the vehicle. 

“Sir, it's Marianne. She is in danger.” Roland turned frantic green eyes on Dagda. 

The older man frowned, but he looked nervous as well. “What do you mean?” 

* 

Marianne knocked softly on Bog's door. He had stayed in his room all day, quietly doing whatever it was he did in there all day. But she needed to run home really quickly, so she had to leave before they had their movie night. “I just need to run home and make sure my dad is set for the night. I completely forgot to say anything about having dinner over here. So I will be right back.” 

Bog stood in the doorway of his room with a nod. She smiled at him for being so tall and scary looking at that moment. He looked like a little boy wearing clothing too big and too short for him. 

“Want me to bring you back anything?” 

Bog gave her a small smile. “No, I'm fine. Thank you Marianne.” 

She stared at him for a moment, there was something about the way he said her name that made butterflies spring to life in her stomach. 

“Okay, well...I'll be back soon.” She smiled giving him a wave before heading down the stairs. 

Bog smiled watching her go. For the first time in a long while the curse, his appearance, was not the foremost thing on his mind. What he was thinking about was a gift for Marianne. He wanted to paint her portrait. He had been doing sketches, but he decided that to really do her justice he would have to paint her. When he stepped back into his room, his wings buzzed behind him as he thought about what he would need. He sat on the side of his bed and settled there pulling out a notepad, an oversize child's pencil his mother had gotten him and started to write out a list to give Griselda the next time she came to visit. 

* 

Dagda brought Roland home with him. The young man was nearly hysterical and was making little sense. Dagda figured getting some coffee in him would help. Finally he had Roland sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee between his hands. “Alright Roland. Now, drink your coffee and tell me exactly why you think Marianne is in danger.” 

Roland frowned. “I followed Marianne to that creepy old house she works at and—and I saw the guy that lives there...” Roland wanted to blurt out that it was a monster that Marianne had been talking to a monster, but he knew now that no one would believe him. He was so disgusted with the fact that Marianne hadn't seemed the least bit upset by the hideousness of the creature she had talked to!! She had, it looked like, made it breakfast! 

Roland shuddered. Ew. “Sir, I don't know what is going on or why Marianne is working there, but I swear to you on my honor sire, that man is a monster! She can't be working there because she wants to!! I'm scared for her safety, sir! I still love Marianne no matter what has happened. I care what happens to her; I only want her happiness. You have to believe me.” Roland gave her father one of his trademark looks that usually made anyone fall under its spell. Dagda ran his fingers along his bearded chin in thought. “Okay, Roland. Let me talk to her tonight okay?” 

“That is all I ask, sir. Thank you.” Roland smiled. “And I will pay you back for getting me out of a jail. That was all just a misunderstanding. “ 

Dagda threw his hand out in a dismissive gesture. “Don't worry about it, young man.” 

No sooner than the words were out of Dagda's mouth than Marianne walked in the front door. “Hey, Dad! I'm going to make you a casserole for dinner. Then I am running back over to the manor house to have dinner there tonight!” She was walking as she yelled, then stopped short when she saw her father and Roland at the kitchen table. 

“Roland, what the hell? Dad!” Marianne looked about ready to spit nails. Then she simply growled. “You know what? Whatever. I don't have time for this. I'm going to make that casserole.” 

The two men watched her throw her purse onto the cabinet. 

“Honey, Roland thinks you might be in danger.” Her father looked confused, not sure whether to believe Roland or not. 

Marianne turned leaning against the counter. “I'm fine, Daddy. Really. Griselda is a nice woman to work for and she gives me free reign to do whatever needs to be done at the house. Her son is nice too. I am going back over to cook him dinner tonight and watch a movie with him.” 

Her father looked confused. “Why?” 

Roland stood up. “Marianne! You can't go back there with that....” He stopped himself with an audible snap of his jaws. She didn't know that he had followed her. She didn't know he had been at the house. If he said something now, she would tell the creature...his life could be in danger! 

He took a deep breath. Proof, once he had proof, everyone would believe him. “Okay. Thank you Mr. Summerfield I...I think I am just overly distressed with Marianne dumping me and taking off like she did.” He glanced at Marianne giving her his best, “pity me, you broke my heart look.” 

Dagda frowned. “Marianne really, shouldn't you and Roland talk about this? I mean you were going to get married, surely you two can get over whatever happened?” 

Marianne pressed her lips together so tightly that they turned thin and white. But Roland smiled. “It's okay. I will give you some time. Thank you again, Mr. Summerfield.” With that Roland left. 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. Her former fiance gave up way too easily. 

* 

Griselda stopped by to check on her son. She had some watercolors for him, a couple of canvases and brushes. She was trying to keep her enthusiasm in check, not wanting to get her hopes up, but Bog had seemed different in the short time that Marianne had been here. She knocked on her son's door and then called out. “It's me!” 

Bog opened the door with a smile. A SMILE!! Griselda's steps faltered for a moment. She had not seen him smile in years, but here he was, with a genuine smile on his face! “I brought the paints you wanted honey and a few extra things.” 

Bog took the bags from her. “Thank you, Mom.” He carried the bags inside putting them down where the rest of the art supplies were, pictures, sketches everywhere. “So would you like me to cook your dinner tonight?”Griselda tried to make dinner for him at least a couple of times a week, otherwise the boy wouldn't eat, but he smiled again! Yes, he was going to kill his old mother. “No, that's fine. Marianne is coming back tonight. We are finally going to watch a movie together.” 

Griselda nodded keeping her smile subdued. 

* 

Roland went out shopping. He made a list of what he would need to go on a hunt for a monster. He even researched websites for hunting creatures like Bigfoot, Yeti, even the Jersey Devil. He rush-ordered things he would not be able to find in town, overnighting what he could. By the end of this week, Roland would have proof that the monster he had seen existed! 

* 

That evening Bog and Marianne sat on the floor with pillows, the couch cushions and blankets watching movies. They had started out sitting on the couch, but while Bog never said anything, Marianne clearly saw that he was uncomfortable, his wings and the couch back not exactly compatible. 

Now they had a nest in the middle of the floor with bowls of popcorn, soda and some other assorted goodies that Marianne had stopped to buy on the way so they could have a full theater experience...well at least as full of an experience as they could get in an old house, with a bug-guy and a TV. 

They were watching the original Halloween with Jamie Lee Curtis, and even though Marianne had seen the film hundreds of times, she still managed to jump. Bog munched on popcorn with a confused look on his face that became even more confused when they watched Halloween II . Bog muttered. “Is Myers a zombie?” 

Marianne choked on her popcorn. “What?!” 

He shrugged. “Well, how did he come back? I mean she shot him, what, six times?” 

Marianne gave Bog a withering look. “You're cursed by magic, why can't Myers come back from being shot six times?” 

Bog stared back then with a straight face pointed a claw at her. “Fair point.” 

* 

Bog walked with Marianne to the front door when they were finished with the movies. “I had fun,” Bog murmured shyly. Marianne smiled up at him. “We should do it again soon. We could watch from Friday the 13th.” 

“More slasher movies?” Bog chuckled just a little, deep in his chest. It sounded a little odd, as if he wasn't used to laughing much. 

“Yeah!” She grinned brightly. 

Bog smiled, it was a crooked smile, charming, endearing, just a hint of fangs at the corner. Marianne had to force herself not to stare. Who knew she was attracted to fangs? 

“Well, see you tomorrow?” Marianne blushed glancing down at her shoes not sure why she was so shy suddenly. 

Bog nodded. “Aye, tomorrow. Drive carefully—it's very dark.” 

She nodded. “Yeah...” Then Marianne did the bravest thing she had ever done in her life up to this point. She quickly leaned up and kiss his cheek. She jogged to the gate, opened it, then turned to give him a wave before she got into her car. But Bog just stood there and stared at her, giving her a vague wave in response. Then she was pulling away, stopping long enough to get out and close the gate, with another grin and wave before she was gone. 

Bog stood there staring the whole time before he slowly reached up to touch the spot where her lips had pressed against his cheek.


	6. Here There Be Monsters

It took two days, but Roland had everything he needed to go monster hunting. He was so obsessed with getting proof of the existence of a monster that he didn't realize how crazy he looked. He filled the back of his car with hunting equipment, motion sensor cameras, computer equipment, voice recorders; you name it, Roland had it. He could easily have been on his own cable network program hunting monsters. Now he just had to sneak onto the property and get proof! 

* 

Bog was up early painting. He hummed to himself while he worked. He wore a torn pair of sweatpants that were now splattered with paint just like his claws and chest. But he didn't seem to notice, he was so engrossed in his work. He had his window open. NOT so he could hear when Marianne pulled up, he would have insisted had anyone asked him. He continued to hum softly, a tiny smile on his face that he was not even aware of being there. 

* 

Marianne was running slightly late this morning because Dawn had called her from the college all excited. There was going to be a masquerade party put on by the theater club at the college open for everyone. Dawn thought it would be great if she, Sunny and Marianne all went. At first Marianne had groaned, mostly because it was stupid early, but after they started talking an idea formed in Marianne mind. 

A costume party—everyone would be in masks and costumes! Bog! She could get him out of the house, get him to go as her date! She almost couldn't believe the chance had fallen right into her lap! The dance wasn't for another three weeks or so, plenty of time to work on him. She smiled slowly, maybe a touch wickedly. 

* 

Roland parked his car off the road making sure it was hidden by bushes and trees. He was so obsessed with proving the existence of a monster that he didn't mind his car's paint job getting scratched, something that would have usually sent him into hysterical rage. But he was focused on proving the existence of this monster! Once he showed the world he could buy as many cars as he wanted! He grinned to himself, but first he needed to scout the area. He didn't see Marianne's car through the gate when he walked up to it, which actually gave him the perfect opportunity to break into the house, plant some cameras and perhaps even a voice recorder! 

Roland made his way around to where he had crawled onto the property before landing on his feet, but the damn primroses were everywhere tangling his feet as soon as he hit the ground. “Fucking plants!” he growled kicking at them while moving toward the house. It took him far longer to get to the back door than he anticipated. He would swear the freaking plants were out to get him, but he finally managed to get to the back door. 

He listened carefully trying to hear if was anyone inside. After a long few minutes he finally decided to enter. He opened the door slowly, the creak of which set his nerves on edge, but no one came running so he figured he was safe. Once inside, he realized he was in the kitchen. For a kitchen it was a pretty darn big room! And it was very clean. He crept carefully looking for a spot to place a secret camera. It was strange how “normal” the placed looked, but he figured that had to be Marianne's doing. He shuddered wondering where the monster hid during the daylight hours. It was probably allergic to sunlight...like all monsters! Would sunlight burn it? No..it had been down here eating breakfast with Marianne so it probably was not allergic. Maybe it just likes the dark like all nasty creatures, he concluded. 

He made his way into the living room seeing the large staircase that led up into the shadows of the house. This place was a lot bigger than he anticipated. He crept into the library looking around with a snort. This place should really be torn down, he thought, make room for some stylish apartments, or a parking lot! 

He didn't see the creatures watching him from the dark corners. 

Thang whispered to Stuff. “Who is he?” 

Stuff shrugged. “No idea.” 

“Think we should go tell BK?” Thang watched the man nervously. 

“No! No. He's working—you know how he can get when he is painting. Besides, remember Griselda told us not to disturb him if he started to paint again.” Stuff pulled Thang deeper into the shadows. “We'll get rid of him ourselves,” she hissed. 

* 

Roland started looking for places to place his little modified nanny cameras and recording devices. The library was easy since there were a lot of little places to put things where they wouldn't be seen. Stuff and Thang were trailing him, however. They didn't quite see what he was doing, only that he seemed to be messing with stuff in Bog's house. When he was busy standing on his tiptoes messing around in the kitchen, Stuff shoved Thang forward pointing at his shoes. Thang grimaced and then tiptoed closer. He was nervous and kept glancing back to Stuff who kept motioning at him to proceed. Thang untied the man's shoes and then tied them together quickly. Not tightly—he was too nervous—but then when he was done he rushed back over to Stuff who grabbed his hand and yanked him into one of their hidey-holes. 

Roland thought he heard something, shuffling...he turned quickly, though his feet didn't move with him and he crashed to the floor with a loud thud. 

Thang and Stuff snickered watching him, but then all of them went still when they heard Bog yell from upstairs. “Who's there!” 

Roland yanked his shoes off in a panic scurrying for the outside. He had only managed to get one camera set. He stumbled out the door with his shoes in hand where he landed on all fours skidding his cheek along the ground getting mud all over his face and scraping his lip. He got to his feet making a mad dash across the overgrown garden tripping and falling the whole way until he hit the fence and threw himself over landing on his rear on the other side. He sat there panting. The monster had almost caught him!! It probably would have torn him open and eaten his heart!! 

Roland put his hand to his chest. Well, I got one camera set, at least, he thought. I'll have to come back at night. He hurried away just as Marianne's car pulled up. Inside, Thang grinned proudly at Stuff who grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him hard on the mouth. The little guy nearly passed out with glee. When she let him go, she laughed. “That was perfect.” 

“Should we tell BK?” Thang asked when they heard Bog was coming down the stairs. “Nah, we got rid of the intruder ourselves this time. No point in worrying him.” Stuff hugged Thang one more time not noticing the way his eyes rolled with happiness. “Come on, let's let him know it was just us.” 

* 

Marianne walked in the front door just as Thang and Stuff disappeared into one of the holes. Bog was still standing on the stairs. She had two paper grocery bags in her hands. “Hey Bog!” She smiled at him and the poor man nearly tumbled off the stairs at that sight of her smile directed at him. Her gaze traveled up and down his body; there was spattered paint over him. “What've you been up to?” She smiled wider. Bog looked down down at himself and flushed. 

“Ah...nothing.” He moved the rest of the way down the stairs, taking the bags from her. She grinned following him, watching as his wings twitched a little while he walked. “Bog, can you come outside with me?” 

He glanced over his shoulder. “Ah, sure,” he said hesitantly. 

He helped put the groceries away grinning when he saw she had purchased his favorite cookies. “Okay come on Bog.” She reached out to take his hand. He was so shocked that he didn't move right away and she had to tug on him. He stumbled after her. 

Once they were outside, she pulled him along until she found an area where there were not quite so many primroses. “Okay, I think you should try out your wings.” 

Bog turned to stare at her, the shock on his face was rather amusing, but she controlled her giggling. He looked so stunned. “I just can't see how you have had wings all this time and not once have you tried them? That would be one of the first things I would do!” 

Bog frowned. “Well, I donna think it's a good idea.” 

“Flying around during the daylight...no... but at night! Can you just imagine! You can fly!” Marianne grinned brightly. Her smile was contagious. 

“Yer not going to leave me alone until I try are you?” Bog looked defeated, but there was a soft pull at the corner of his lips that might have been mistaken for a tiny smile. 

“No, probably not,” she admitted. “My dad says I can be stubborn once I get an idea in my head. I figured you could just try right now to see if your wings will support your weight...you know, if they are not just for show. Then maybe tonight you could try really flying.” She walked over and started tossing away sticks and other debris that could be in his way since she had no idea how or if this was going to work. 

Bog took a deep breath and straightened to his full height. 

“Okay, deep calming breath.” He shook his shoulders back and forth. 

Marianne sat down on the ground, crossing her legs watching him intently. He lifted his wings and Marianne lost her breath. She thought she was prepared for what his wings would look like...she had seen them, they were right there for God's sake! 

But when he spread them out, the sunlight catching them and dancing through them, she was not prepared for how beautiful they were. She let out an audible gasp of stunned appreciation. 

Bog didn't hear her, or notice the expression on her face, however. He was too busy moving his wings back and forth, spreading them to their full potential. 

Color washed over her from his wings, shimmering colors of green, purples and blues. 

Bog spread them wide. It felt good to do it, to really stretch them out, something he had never done before. He stretched his arms over his head, letting the sun wash over him. Marianne's jaw dropped open staring at him. 

“Okay, here we go.” He started to move his wings with stronger and stronger strokes of the previously unused appendages. Marianne shielded her eyes from the bits of flying dust that stirred up as Bog slowly rose into the air. 

“You're doing it!!” She clapped her hands. He got a little higher before he began to wobble a little. “Oh crap!” Bog put his hands out trying to get his balance. He started to wobble even more, 

Marianne hopped up to run over to Bog, her hands out reaching to help him when he lost his balance, tangling his wings with each other and fell forward into Marianne. The two of them went tumbling down, Bog in a panic when he hit her. Marianne grabbed him falling backwards knocking the air from her lungs. Though Bog dropped onto her, he managed to shield the back of her head from striking the ground with one of his hands. However, Bog's chin smashed into her forehead, the prickles on his chin scraping her. 

They both laid there for a couple of seconds, Marianne trying to catch her breath. Bog looked down at her starting to ask if she was alright, but he saw the blood on her forehead caused by him, then he realized that his claws had cut her scalp, not deeply, but enough to draw blood. 

While Bog started to panic because of the injuries he had caused her, Marianne was intently aware of Bog's body pressed against her. He was warm, he smelled like a forest in fall, and those brilliant eyes of his looked down at her, revealing his great concern for her. This would be the perfect moment to kiss those lips. For just a second, she thought Bog might have thought the same thing but then he quickly pushed himself up and off of her like she was on fire. “Oh, Marianne! I am so sorry.” 

She pushed herself up onto her elbows. “I'm okay; it's fine!” 

Bog folded his arms around himself, his claws tucked under his arms. “I'm so sorry, Marianne.” He took a step backwards putting more distance between them. She started to reach out to touch him, but he yanked himself back from her so quickly that he almost stumbled. 

“This—this was a bad idea. You should go inside; you're bleeding.” He looked down his whole body seeming to bow with shame. She touched her forehead, her fingers coming away with just a little blood. “Bog, it's fine! It's just a scratch!” 

He took a step further back from Marianne, who could tell he was going to flee to the house at any moment. “Bog, really I'm fine! A couple of scratches, nothing to get upset about. My sister has done worse to me.” She grinned, but Bog clearly wasn't having any of it. 

“Go home! Go and don't come back Marianne!” Then he took off. He was fast and within a couple of heartbeats the back door slammed shut and Bog was gone. 

Marianne cursed at herself. “Damn it!! Damn it!! Damn it!!” 

She ran in after him just in time to hear the door upstairs slam shut. 

“Oh Bog...” 

She went up the stairs to knock at his door, but he refused to open it. “Get away from me! Go away! Don't come back!!” He roared at her until finally Marianne stopped. She was crying by the time she got down the stairs. She was upset and angry. “Fine,” she muttered. 

But it wasn't fine and she wasn't going to go because of a couple of accidental scratches. This required someone tougher than her. So once she was downstairs, Marianne put a call in to Griselda. 

* 

It was half an hour later when Griselda arrived. “So what happened again?” Griselda asked when she came in tossing her purse onto the table by the door. She frowned looking at Marianne's face. “That's what he is upset about?” The older woman examined the marks that Marianne had cleaned up on her forehead and the couple on her scalp. “I doubt those are even going to scar.” 

“I know,” Marianne agreed, “but he won't talk to me! I just thought he should see if he could fly. Which I think he could, but he lost his balance. I tried to help and he fell on me. No big deal. He protected my head from hitting the ground which is how I got the cuts on my head and his chin hit my forehead. Nothing major, obviously, but he took off...wouldn't listen to me.” Marianne pressed her lips together as tears started to form at the corners of her eyes. She fought them, but the tears were winning. 

Griselda reached over and pulled Marianne into her arms, holding the young woman. “It's not your fault sweetie. My Bog is very sensitive. Hurting you hurt him. He thinks of himself as a monster.” 

“I told him I was fine!” Marianne snarled, but she was hugging Griselda, her face buried on the older woman's shoulder. 

“I know dear. That boy has a lot of self-hate, even before the curse. Come on. Let's set you down and I will go get him out of his room.” Griselda led her into the library putting her on the couch and then headed upstairs to talk to her son. 

* 

“Bog? You better open this door.” Griselda huffed. 

“Mom?” He sounded surprised. 

“Yes, it's your Mom. Now open this door,” Griselda snapped. 

The door opened and Griselda saw her boy standing there. For a moment, her mind flashed back to a tall, extremely thin ten year old who had gotten in a fight. 

“Mom, I hurt her.” Bog sounded so upset that Griselda wrapped her arms around his waist. “Bog sweetie, it was an accident.” She hugged him tightly and then walked him into the bedroom. 

“Marianne told me what happened honey. You didn't hurt her, just a couple of scratches. AND it was an accident. Sweetie you need to forgive yourself.” She walked him over to his bed and sat him down, then sat beside him. 

“Mom, I'm such a monster...” Bog dropped his head into his hands. 

“Bog, it was an accident.” She rubbed his shoulder, but he shook his head. 

“Yeah, but if I wasn't a monster I would never have hurt her.” 

“Bog you don't know that. Now you need to go spend some time with Marianne. She likes you honey and she is upset.” She continued to rub her hand over his scaly shoulder. It took him a few minutes, but finally he calmed down. Taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly, Bog finally murmured. “I'm such an idiot.” 

“Well, get yer ass down there, apologize to the girl and eat some dinner, alright?” 

Griselda stood up. “She's making spaghetti for the two of you.” 

Bog smiled. “Thanks for coming over, Mom.” 

She took his sharp face in both her hands. “Honey, you're my baby. I'll do anything for you. And Marianne cares, so don't drive her off.” 

He nodded mutely. 

She gave him another smile before leaving the room. She trotted downstairs and into the kitchen where the smells of tomato sauce and garlic bread filled the kitchen. “Okay, he's coming down for dinner.” 

Marianne grinned. “Thank you!” 

Griselda laughed. “No problem. You two have a nice dinner.” 

“Wanna stay?” Marianne asked. 

Griselda waved a hand in dismissal. “Nah, you two have fun.” Secretly she thought that the more alone time those two had the better. By both their reactions, they were beginning to care for each other a little more deeply than simple friendship. She whistled to herself walking to her car, happy as a lamb. 

* 

They ate dinner in an awkward silence. Bog was trying to work his way up to apologizing and Marianne was doing the same. Thang and Stuff came into the kitchen where Bog and Marianne sat on their stools eating dinner. “Oh, I made enough for you two, so feel free to make some bowls.” Thang was especially smiley this evening and Stuff kept blushing. They thanked Marianne, made their bowls and disappeared again. “Those two are acting weird,” Marianne muttered. 

Bog chuckled softly. “Yeah, they are...” 

Bog and Marianne's eyes met and then they both laughed. 

“I'm sorry Marianne...” He glanced at the bandage on her forehead. It wasn't big, but it was there. “How are you?” With his blue eyes he indicated the band-aid. 

“I'm fine really,” she assured him. “I don't want you to stop trying to fly just because you stumbled into me.” She smiled at him. It was such a beautiful smile, he noticed as he had noticed many times before. Her smile made her eyes dance and twinkle while making his heart skip a few beats. 

“I promise I will practice again.” Bog smiled glancing down at his plate using two of his claws delicately to turn the fork in the noodles. 

“Good.” She smiled softly. They kept grinning and stealing glances at each other both looking like they were on the verge of bursting into laughs. They cleaned dishes together, Bog drying delicately while Marianne washed. She started singing under her breath. “Quite some time, I been sittin' it out Didn't take no chances, I was a prisoner of doubt, I knocked down the wailin' wall, it ain't no sin, I, got, the feel of fortune, deal me in...” 

Bog chuckled and joined in the chorus. “I'm comin' straight on for you, You made my mind, Now I'm stronger, now I'm comin' through,Straight on, straight on for you, Straight on for you...” 

Marianne bumped his hip with hers while they sang, shocking him a little, but he was enjoying himself and bumped her right back. She giggled blushing. Damn, he had a wonderful voice, with just a hint of a Scottish accent that seemed to tickle up her back. 

“What the winner don't the gambler understands!” Bog sang the line by himself and Marianne thought she might go weak in the knees listening to him. “Straight on, straight for you!” They sang the chorus together again, but this time Bog turned, grabbing her and started to dance with her in the kitchen while singing. 

She started to laugh while Bog started singing another song. “Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody, Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me...” He swayed his hips, spun her around elegantly and then with a goofy grin that highlighted his delightful fangs, Bog cha-cha her across the kitchen before spinning her again. 

Marianne was laughing so hard that tears started to stream down her cheeks. Bog was laughing too when he dipped her back. They were both grinning, looking into each others eyes when something passed between them. Marianne found herself wishing he would kiss her. Bog was on the verge of actually doing so, his eyes shifting between her wonderfully warm brown eyes and her plump, plum-colored lips. The urge to kiss those lips was so strong that for a split second Bog almost gave in, but just as quickly as the thought came, Bog shoved it away. He flushed, putting Marianne on her feet, though his smile did not fade. 

Marianne found herself extremely disappointed that Bog hadn't kissed her. “You dance really well Bog.” She spoke to cover up her disappointment which she was not going to examine more closely. 

“Thanks,” he replied. “My Mom taught me when I was little. Family used to do a lot of dancing before my Da died.” 

“Sorry, I didn't mean...” Marianne frowned, but Bog waved a dismissive hand. “No, I enjoyed it.” 

They were both quiet, Marianne rocking on her feet for a moment. She realized that she should probably head home. She didn't really want to just yet, but he couldn't think of a reason to stay until Bog murmured. “Would you like to go look at the stars? I...uh...it's supposed to be clear tonight...” 

“I would love to, Bog.” Marianne grinned brightly. 

* 

When she arrived home a little later than usual, Marianne was smiling so much her cheeks hurt. They had stood outside together talking about the stars and dreams. It had been nice, more than just nice, so nice that Marianne had said she was going to see about getting them a telescope. 

Her father was waiting up in his recliner reading a book when she arrived home. He didn't look happy, but she was a grown woman and it was her job. But when he saw the bandage, her father came to his feet. “Marianne! What happened!?” 

“Dad, it's nothing. I had a little accident.” She smiled and started to go upstairs. 

“An accident? What happened?” Her father came out of the living room following her to the stairs. 

“I tripped. It was accident, not big deal.” She yawned. “See you in the morning, Dad. Love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” Her father watched her go, but then he started to worry. She got hurt...how?! Was it an accident. Roland said the man was not a man but a monster...what if...


	7. Joy Ride

The next morning, after he had failed to convince his daughter to stay home, or quit her job, Dagda called Roland. 

“Yeah?” Roland answered groggily. 

“Roland, it's Marianne's father.” 

Roland sat up in bed rubbing his eyes. “What is it? Something happen?” 

“Well, Marianne came home yesterday with a band-aid on her forehead and some cuts on her scalp. She said it was an accident, but...Roland...I'm worried,” Dagda said with a frown. 

“Mr. Summerfield, sir, you don't worry about a thing. I am going to get to the bottom of this and I am going to save Marianne. I promise.” Roland grinned to himself. Yes! Now he had her father on his side. Once he had the proof, poof! Monster in a zoo somewhere and Marianne in his arms...it would all work out perfectly. 

* 

Marianne decided that today she was going to get Bog out of the house. Not out among people—not precisely—but to take him for a ride! To get some fresh air! He had been trapped in that house for god only knew how long. So she had stopped at the store on the way to his house and purchased the biggest hoodie she could get her hands on. The clerk checking her out had raised an eyebrow at the hoodie, glancing at Marianne and then at the article of clothing, but didn't make any comment. 

When she stepped into the house Bog was nowhere to be seen, which wasn't all that unusal. He was probably in his room. She stepped into the kitchen glancing around and then frowned. It looked exactly how they had left it last night, which told her Bog had not eaten today yet. Pressing her lips together firmly, Marianne headed up the stairs. 

“Bog, I'm here!” She called as her greeting just before she approached his bedroom door. 

“I know—I heard the car!” Bog yelled back. 

She chuckled softly. She liked the sound of his voice. When she got to the door, she knocked. “I had an idea of something we could do today.” 

She heard Bog moving around before he came to the door. He opened it and slipped out, shutting it quickly behind him. She narrowed her eyes, but said nothing about whatever secret he was keeping back there. 

Bog wore those beat up and torn sweatpants and by the way he was holding his arms, he was embarrassed to not have a shirt on. Marianne held up the huge hoodie. “We are going to go for a car ride,” she explained and grinned looking proud of herself. 

Bog stared at the hoodie in confusion. “What?” 

“You and me are going to go for a car ride.” Marianne grinned again shaking the hoodie for emphasis. “I can't go outside the grounds...I...can't fit in yer car.....” Bog stuttered. 

“We can push the seat back as far as it will go and I think we can make your wings comfortable. I mean, we can at least give it a try.” She tried what Dawn always did when she was trying to get her way, make her eyes as huge as possible. 

Bog stared at her with an odd look on his face. He wrinkled his nose in confusion. “What are you doing?” 

Marianne frowned at him. “What do you mean what am I doing?” 

He gestured at her with one long claw. “With yer eyes. What are you doing?” 

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Trying to make you do what I want.” She continued to flutter her eyes. 

Bog frowned. “You look like you're having a seizure or something. Looks bloody unnatural on ye.” 

Marianne burst out laughing. “Fine. It works for Dawn, though.” She pouted which made Bog laugh. It wasn't a loud laugh, but it was nice to hear. “So will you do it?” Marianne perked up. 

Bog sighed putting out his hand for the sweatshirt. Marianne gave him a triumphant grin as she handed it to him. They headed downstairs, Marianne trotting down first while Bog kept a slower pace. Once they had reached the living room Marianne turned to Bog. “Okay, put it on. We are going for a drive and grabbing some lunch.” 

Bog still looked unsure and decidedly unhappy about Marianne's plan, but he struggled into the hoodie. Marianne came over and carefully helped him. She was happy and a little surprised that he didn't flinch from her touch when she helped him pull it down over his wings. She stood on tiptoe, signaling Bog to crouch down, which he did. She tugged the hood up around his face, her thumbs briefly brushing against his spiky head. Even those slight touches felt electric to him and caused him to flush. After she had the hood up, she adjusted it around his face, her own features so close to his that he could simply reach out and brush her lips with his own. Bog flushed more at that suddenly awkward thought, but thankfully, Marianne stepped back, removing temptation. He stood up. 

“Are you too uncomfortable?” she asked with concern. 

Bog frowned. “Nah. I can deal with it,” he said with a shrug of his armored shoulders. “But I don;t think this is a good idea Marianne.” 

“Bog, you need to get out of the house. This will be good for you. Now, if it's really uncomfortable we will turn right around and come home,” she said reassuringly. “Okay?” 

Bog frowned, but nodded. “Okay.” 

She reached out to take his hand and for a split second his first thought was to snatch his hand back, but Marianne pulled him along and he was happy to go, happy to let her touch him. It was so strange to feel her tiny hand wrapped around one of his clawed fingers. She wasn't the least bit repulsed by him. He smiled a lopsided grin as she yanked him outside and over to her vehicle to open the car door. She only dropped his hand to put her hands on her waist to stare at the inside of her car. Not only was Bog ridiculously tall, his wings made it awkward for him to simply sit. She chewed her bottom lip thinking while Bog stood beside her in his torn sweatpants, slightly hunched with the hood of the hoodie pulled over his head so far that it covered part of his forehead. She turned to look up at him. “Okay—hold on a minute.” 

She leaned in to push the seat back as far as it would go. Okay...his legs should be alright...well...enough. She sighed. Bog shuffled a little from one foot to another. “We can just forget the whole thing Marianne.” 

She turned on him. “No, Bog. I want you to go out with me. It will be fun. When was the last time you left the grounds here?” 

Bog looked down at the ground, kicking a mound of dead grass. “I don't remember.” 

“Just trust me. I am going to make this work.” She took both his hands in hers, or at least one finger of each hand and looked up at him, giving him her best smile. 

He nodded. “Okay.” Bog found that he trusted her, really trusted her, which was a new experience for him. Up until this point the only person he really, truly trusted was his mother. 

“Stay here,” she demanded. “I will be right back.” Marianne jogged into the house and came back out a minute later with a couple of blankets from the linen closet and scissors. 

“Okay, turn around,” she said to him. 

Bog did as ordered with a quizzical look in his eyes, presenting his back to her. She carefully used the scissor to cut up the back of the hoodie. The urge to stroke his wings was almost overpowering, but she didn't give in...it would be rude...wouldn't it? 

“Okay. Now move your wings a little.” Marianne stood back. Bog glanced over his shoulder, the hood still up and shifted his wings. The slice up the back gave him a little more freedom. 

“Now let's get you into the car.” Marianne followed Bog over to the passenger side. He took a breath and folded himself into the vehicle. His knees still looked like they were threatening to take his chin out, but he was able to shift his wings a little more to the side so he wasn't sitting on them. Marianne used the blankets to cover them up a little bit and make the seat more comfortable for him. 

Then she leaned in and pulled the seat belt across him, snapping it in place. 

She was practically pressed up against him, one hand beside his head balancing herself as she messed with the seat belt. Bog swallowed, staring down at her, doing his best not to move a muscle and accidentally touch her. The only part of him really visible from the hood was his sharp nose. 

Marianne was suddenly aware of how close they were, so close that she could hear him breathing, feel the heat of his body and the scent...he smelled like spice and winter forest...how odd. She slowed her movements to turn to look at him, their noses practically touching, those blue eyes which were staring at her from the shadows of the hood were memorizing. 

Suddenly she was having a hard time finding her voice. “Uh...are...you comfortable?” 

Bog, his eyes wide, nodded mutely staring at her, the movement of his head very slight. 

She smiled, a hot red blush burning her cheeks. “Ah...good.” 

For some reason, she couldn't seem to move! Bog had managed to shift his hands down to the sides of the seat where he was pressing his fingers and claws into the underside of the seat as much as possible. He was terrified to move for fear that he might touch her, though he wanted to touch her, to feel the softness of her cheek, her lips, but instead he froze. 

He could feel her breath against his mouth, she was so close. Marianne's eyes moved from his blue, blue eyes to that wonderful hooked nose and down to those lips that looked like they would be soft to the touch. When her eyes came back to lock with his, she moved a little closer, just a fraction, when her hand on the side of his seat by his head, slipped. 

She landed hard against Bog, her nose ramming into his, but it was her lips hitting his that caused them both to freeze again. 

Bog's hands shot up to grab her when she fell into him, surprising himself by not cutting her, his arms automatically going around her. Noses and lips pressed uncomfortably against each other, his arms around her, her body flat against him for a moment, neither of them knew what to do. Bog snapped back first pushing her off of him gently. “Are you alright?” 

Marianne extracted herself from the car, rubbing the end of her nose, her ears and cheeks so red she was surprised she didn't burst into flames. “Oh yeah, I'm good.” She giggled nervously. 

Bog was pretty much trapped in the car, but his nervousness and suddenly being embarrassed prompted him to pull the hood down even further to hide his burning face. Marianne, still blushing, shut his door and moved around to get into the driver's seat. She turned to look at her captive passenger, her brown eyes bright. “Ready?” 

Bog took a deep breath, hiding his hands in the pockets of the hoodie. “I think so.” 

She grinned brightly as she turned the key in the ignition. “Let's go!” 

* 

As she pulled out of the drive and stopped to close the gate, she didn't see Roland's car parked on the side of the road. But Roland saw them. His eyes widened when he realizaed there was another figure in the car with her. A tall figure..it couldn't be! Could it? 

Roland's original plan had been to try to get some pictures with his new long lens camera, but he could still do that later. However, if she had that monster out with her...this was a golden opportunity!! 

Roland started his car and turned to follow. 

* 

Bog looked out the window, his eyes wide. So much had changed since he had been cursed. Marianne kept sneaking glances at him while he stared out the window. 

“Everything is so built up,” Bog muttered. 

Marianne shrugged. “Yeah. Progress does that.” 

They drove downtown, looking at the new movie theater, the public gardens and even took a few turns around the center of town fountain that everyone had to drive around to get from one end of town to the other in any direction. 

They had driven by the old high school where Marianne said she had been a cheerleader...which made Bog laugh. “I would love to see you in a cheerleading outfit,” Bog teased. 

Marianne whacked him in the arm. Bog laughed grabbing his arm. “Ow! Tough girl! Hurting the innocent!” 

She burst out laughing. “I bet you're innocent.” 

The two of them laughed together. Bog was actually really starting to enjoy the ride. 

She pulled into a fast food drive thru, ordering them some burgers for lunch. Bog hunched down trying to hide as much as possible. After she got the food, she then drove him to Fairy Fields Park. 

She found a secluded place to park the car where they could have the windows down. “You doing alright?” she asked. 

Bog nodded. “Aye.” He gave her a tentative smile. 

“You can take the hood down. I think we're safe here.” She gave him a reassuring smile. 

Bog gingerly reached up and tugged the cloth back, his smile a little self-conscious. 

Marianne grinned. “That's better.” Bog blushed...did she really not mind looking at him? 

She took a long sip of her soda. Bog tilted his head to the side, looking at her in a way that made her blush. “What is it? Something on my face?” Marianne crossed her eyes. 

Bog chuckled. “No, just...I don't make you sick by looking at me?” 

Marianne made a rude noise. “No, Bog...not at all.” 

He frowned staring out the windshield. “I'm hideous..I don't know how you stomach looking at me every day and then just now...asking me to take the hood down when you didn't have to...” 

Marianne turned in her seat to face him. “Bog, you're not hideous. I think you are wonderful and interesting and I am enjoying getting to know you.” 

Bog frowned turning to look at her, his blue eyes full of confusion. “Really?” 

She nodded. “Really.” 

With that, she leaned forward and placed a kiss at the side of his mouth. “Now eat your lunch. You 're so skinny! Going to make me feel fat! And I know you skip meals when I'm not there to feed you!” 

Bog blushed, the place where she kissed his mouth burned. “Yer hardly fat and even if you were, you will always be beautiful.” 

He reached out; it was a slow hesitant gesture, but he brushed one long claw against her cheek. Her eyes met his...he didn't pull his claw away and Marianne reached up to rest her hand against the back of his, her cheek now resting in his palm. 

“Marianne...” Bog whispered her name. 

“Bog...” Her brown eyes seemed to glow. 

That was when a bird landed on the hood of the car startling them both. He jerked his hand away from her looking embarrassed. 

Marianne blushed and appearing slightly uncomfortable, taking a bite out of her burger because she needed to cover her embarrassment. 

Bog swallowed and unwrapped his burger...or attempted too, but he was shaking a little so Marianne took it, opening the sandwich for him with a gentle smile and a shimmer of something magical in her eyes. 

* 

Roland was parked not too far away, his long lens camera out as he tried to take pictures, but damned if Marianne hadn't parked under a huge tree! He could see movement in the car, but each time he focused and thought he had the monster in his sights, Marianne would get in the way! Finally at one point he managed to get off a few snapshots that he hoped would capture the creature. He shuddered thinking that Marianne was in the car, close to that thing! 

He took his pictures and watched them until Marianne pulled away. He took several more shots of the car driving by, the monster again covered causing Roland to curse long and vividly. There had to be a way to get a clear picture!! 

Roland ground his teeth. 

* 

As Marianne pulled through the gate returning Bog home, she decided now was a good time to tell him about the masquerade. 

“So we should do this again, don't you think?” Marianne put the car in park and turned off the engine. “Maybe...” Bog smiled, struggling to unsnap the seat belt. Marianne lightly smacked his hand and unsnapped it for him. He gave her a grateful look. 

He disengaged himself from the car with a little effort. Marianne got out and moved around to the passenger side to take his hand and help him. Soon they were heading back toward the house. 

“My sister was telling me that there is going to be this big costume party coming up and...well...I thought maybe we could go together?” Marianne tried to bring it up causually. 

Bog stopped moving, turning to stare at her. “You canna be serious?” 

She grinned. “Very serious. You could go! I mean—we could go...together! We could add something to how you look, like a few obvious fake parts for a costume so you don't look too good, but yeah! No one would realize that you weren't in a costume!” 

For a moment Marianne felt like jumping up and down like Dawn while trying to convince him to go...which in and of itself was horrifying, but she wanted to take him outside and most especially she wanted him to have fun. She wanted him to...for a moment she was confused. Why did she want him to do this? 

Bog looked down at her and Marianne felt her chest tighten, that face...those eyes... 

Bog stared at her. She wanted him to go to a party? But...why? 

Then on top of it, the way she was looking at him...he felt...weird...weak, silly. His chest felt tight and he couldn't help but follow the curve of her lips, the delicate flow of her jaw, the way she had kissed the side of his mouth. He swallowed...and her brown eyes, like polished stones...no...not stones...there was too much fire in them. 

“Ah...ah...okay...I'll go...” He swallowed; the words were out. He said he would go—no backing out now. 

Marianne smiled and blushed happily. “It will be fun.” She took his hand in hers, leading him into the house as she thought to herself: I hope so.


	8. Magic Doesn't Work That Way

It was a Sunday afternoon, a few days later when Marianne arrived with a large clear plastic bucket filled to the brim with crafting supplies. Bog helped her bring it in with a quizzical expression on his sharp features. They set the box in the middle of the kitchen table. Marianne grinned. “We are going to work on your costume.” 

Bog made a face at her explanation, which had Marianne laughing. “Oh stop.” 

Bog sighed. “Fine.” 

Marianne started to rummage around in the box as she muttered. “Take everything off, okay?” 

Bog was starting to get a couple of cups down from the cabinet; when she said that, he stopped mid-reach to stare over his shoulder at her. “What?” 

Marianne looked up her cheeks flushed. “I mean, everything but your pants, of course.” 

Bog was blushing too. “Yeah, okay” 

She was still blushing burying herself into the box while she pulled things out, a hot glue gun, some model paints and a few other odds and ends. 

Bog poured them each a cup of water before coming back to look at the mess on the table. “So what did you have in mind?” He picked up random things wrinkling his nose at them as he did so. 

Marianne turned to study Bog. He glanced up from looking at one of the little bottles of paint. “What?” she reached out and pushed him to the middle of the kitchen then started to walk around him rubbing her chin as she did so. Bog followed her with his head. 

“Okay first, stand up straight for a minute.” Marianne was behind him when she placed her hand on his lower back and Bog nearly hit the ceiling. “Yowh!!!” 

Marianne squawked at his sudden movement and loud reaction, his wings almost whacking into her. 

Bog shuddered. “Don't touch me there!!” 

Marianne grimaced. “What did I do?” 

Bog flushed bright red wrapping his arms around his torso in embarrassment. “Nothing...yes...nothing...ah—I'm ticklish on my back okay?” 

Marianne nodded, but she thought to herself that he did not sound like he had been tickled...well...she shook the thought from her head before she could follow that trail of thought to the really interesting fact that she could now NOT think about..late at night...alone... 

Marianne picked up her glass of water and chugged it. Bog did the same. The way she touched him...the way it felt...thank goodness for baggy pants was all he could think... 

“Okay...” Marianne took a breath. “Back to business...I thought if we added a few fake parts, like on your arms, maybe your chest...you know—places people might accidentally touch or on purpose—anyway, to make those parts feel like plastic would be a good idea. 

Bog frowned not looking completely sure, but willing to let Marianne play around. They spent the next hour looking at Styrofoam pieces and seeing how to attach things to Bog. Nothing wanted to stay on very well, however. Marianne was about ready to try superglue when Bog gently grabbed both her hands in his. “Maybe we should just forget the whole thing?” 

Marianne stared at him, then at her hands held in his and her heart thumped hard. His eyes...wow...she thought...part of her knew she was swooning like a character in book, but it was hard for her not to. His eyes were so emotional—they showed his soul plainly. The way he held her hands was so gentle...how could she not swoon? 

“I..I know we can come up with a way, Bog. Just give me time, okay?” She smiled at him in such a way that Bog felt weak. 

“Why is this so important to you?” he asked, his voice a soft hush. 

Marianne chewed her bottom lip. “I...I just want you to have fun. To get out of this house.” 

Bog squeezed her hands gently. “I don't think I'm meant for any of that...fun...to get out of this house. You know—part of the curse.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together. “I'm tempted to go find that witch and give her a piece of my mind.” 

Bog pressed her hands in his tighter then. “Don't please! She could curse you too.” 

Marianne blinked in surprise. For some reason she was under the assumption that the witch was gone or dead...but clearly by Bog's reaction, she was still around! This might require some time with Griselda, Marianne thought. 

“I won't, Bog.” Marianne smiled reassuringly up at him and he sighed in relief. 

* 

This time when Marianne left that evening, she embraced Bog, giving him a goodbye hug, not something she was prone to do like her sister, but it felt “right” to hug him. At first he held his hands back refusing to touch her, or scared to, but after a couple of seconds he had gingerly put his arms around her. 

For Bog, it was the most pleasant contact he had had in years. The soft kisses she gave him were wonderful, but this...this was...something special. No one had held him in years and here was Marianne, unafraid, wrapping her arms around him. Bog could have broken down, but he only just stopped himself. 

The hug lasted longer than necessary, but both of them seemed reluctant to let go. It was Bog who finally loosened his grip, afraid that if he didn't let go of her now, he never would. He smiled softly. “See you tomorrow?” 

Marianne nodded looking up into his eyes. “Tomorrow.” 

* 

That night Bog started on a new painting. He painted with more emotion than he had ever shown before. He wasn't sure what it was...but he let it flow through him and onto the canvas. When he finished, he stepped back and stared at what he had created. The painting was of Marianne again, but this time he had painted her with the most brilliant pair of butterfly wings. He stared in wonderment at the image before him. She was a fairy princess, gliding over a field of flowers, the sunlight dancing off of her beautiful wings. 

He reached out, his claws hovering over the image not wanting to touch it and spoil the drying paint. 

That night he dreamed of holding Marianne's hand as they flew together, both of them with wings. 

* 

When Marianne arrived home that evening the first thing she did was call Bog's mother. The voice that answered the phone was groggy with sleep. “Who the hell is this?” Griselda's voice sounded higher pitched than usual. 

“It's Marianne. I...” 

But before she could say more Griselda's voice turned panicky, “What's wrong with Bog?!” 

“Oh no no. I promise—Bog is fine! He was just fine when I left!” Marianne quickly assured the older woman. “I needed to talk to you. I wanted to discuss the witch that cursed Bog.” 

Griselda was quiet and for a minute Marianne wondered if she had fallen back asleep, but then her voice came back on the line. “Okay, how about you come over early—before you head to Bog's house and we can eat breakfast and you can ask your questions. Sound good?” 

“Just tell me what time.” Marianne smiled to herself. 

* 

When Marianne arrived at Griselda's place, it was the ass crack of dawn. She was still yawning and rubbing her eyes, trying to wake up. She hadn't even had her coffee yet, but she had told Griselda to name the time...She got out of her little car and headed to the door only to have Griselda open it before she even knocked. “Come on in,” Griselda grinned invitingly. Marianne stepped inside and slowly found herself reviving, waking up, coming to life, with each step. The smell of good coffee filled the air, mixed with the delicious scent of frying bacon. 

Griselda led her into a small kitchen painted a bright summer yellow. Everything was yellow and white reminding Marianne of a picture perfect kitchen from a 1950's magazine—not at all what she pictured Griselda having. The older woman had on jeans and a dark green t-shirt with an apron over herself that was pale pink and her frizzy red hair pulled back into a pony-tail. She wore a pair of pink fluffy slippers. 

“Have a seat and I will make you some eggs...you like eggs?” Griselda stood at the stove with a spatula in her hand and eyebrows lifted questioningly. 

“Oh sure, scrambled?” Marianne saw there was a pot on the table and two mugs, along with cream and sugar. 

Griselda grinned brightly. “Sure thing. Go ahead and make yourself some coffee. There's some orange juice in the fridge if you want it.” 

Marianne did help herself with enthusiasm. The first sip tasted like the nectar of the gods as it flowed warm and rich down her throat. Thank you God for caffeine! Marianne thought to herself. 

It only took a couple of minutes for Griselda to whip up some scrambled eggs, bacon and some toast, setting Marianne's plate down before adding butter and jam to the table. She swiftly made her own plate. She sat down across from Marianne and made herself a cup of coffee. “So what is it do you want to know about the witch?” 

Marianne took a bite of eggs chewing slowly. “ Well, first: is she still around?” 

Griselda nodded. “Yes, she is still around.” 

“I told Bog I wanted to give her a piece of my mind and he said she would curse me...would she?” Marianne sipped at her coffee. 

Griselda looked thoughtful. “I don't really know. I mean, what Bog did was completely different, but I mean...well...yeah she might. Witches can be prickly.” 

Griselda took a bite of toast, then muttered speaking around it. “Though maybe she wouldn't. She is kind of a weird...well...witch,” she concluded. 

Marianne sipped her coffee. “Well, until all this with Bog I didn't believe in witches or curses so it's all weird to me, but Bog is so sad...I just...I want him to be happy.” The last part of the sentence came out a little more softly, but Griselda heard her, heard the emotion in her voice and her heart leapt up into her throat. Maybe... 

“Well, why don't you finish your breakfast and I can at least show you were the witch lives, though you have to promise me you are not going to go in there and start any trouble. Bog would never forgive himself if something happened to you.” 

Marianne smiled putting a hand to her chest and her other in the air. “I swear I won't start any trouble.” 

* 

They left Griselda's house with her riding shotgun. It took a lot longer to find the “witchs” house than she thought it would. But soon they were pulling up in front of a gated house. It was set far back from a brick driveway and reminded Marianne of a plantation from the old south. The two women got out of the car and walked over to the gate. The house was hard to see due to the large oak and ash trees that lined the brick driveway. The trees were huge and had to be ancient judging by the size of them. There were wild flower everywhere of every kind, but no primroses. Marianne turned to Griselda. “I thought this was where Bog got the primroses? I don't see any.” 

“It used to, but you've seen them all around Bog's house? She transplanted them all there under Bog's care.” Griselda grabbed the bars in her hand looking through the slats. Both women stood there staring. “How do you know she's still alive?” Marianne frowned down at Griselda with a question in her eyes. 

“Can't explain it. I just do.” Griselda frowned, not taking her eyes off the house. 

After a couple of more seconds she reached out, laying a hand on Marianne's arm. “Come on. You should be getting over to Bog's before he starts to worry.” 

Marianne stared beyond the gates a moment longer, her eyes narrowed in thought. Then suddenly before Griselda could grab her, Marianne was clambering over the iron gate, dropping to her feet on the other side. “MARIANNE! GET BACK HERE!” Griselda hissed, but Marianne was already walking up the path toward the witch's house. 

* 

Roland woke with a start, his snoring having woken him up. The morning sunlight shown through the windshield blinding him as he opened his eyes. He rubbed his eyes and wiped a hand over his mouth as he sat up. He had fallen asleep in his car waiting for Marianne to leave last night. He rolled his eyes. God damn it, he thought to himself. His plan had been to sneak in and get the camera he had hidden, but he had been sipping on a couple of beers and, well...damn. 

He sat up and realized he really needed to drain the old lizard so he hopped out of the car and dashed into the bushes a ways to relieve himself. 

He had just finished when he realized he saw something moving in the woods near that piece of shit house. He went very still, watching. For a moment he thought he was seeing things, but after a couple of seconds he realized he wasn't seeing things...he was SEEING THINGS! 

He fumbled for his phone from his back pocket trying not to shake. These creatures had to belong to the monster in the house! Trembling, struggling to hold his camera steady, Roland snapped off several shots just before the little creatures disappeared uncer the fence that surrounded the manor. Roland couldn't believe his luck! It wasn't the main monster, but it might be enough to get someone to believe him!! 

He ran back to his car slamming the key into the ignition before he sped off. 

* 

Marianne walked slowly up the path toward the witch's house, ignoring Griselda's call to return. The place wasn't as “bad” as she had assumed. It did have a certain “witch's abode” quality to it, with the thatched roof, the wild flowers that seemed to be everywhere and the trees that overhung the path and the house, keeping the place always in shade and darkness. 

Nothing came out to attack her or put a curse on her....the only thing she heard was the chirping of birds in the trees. 

She was almost to the door when a large dog came bounding around the corner at full speed heading straight for Marianne. For a split second Marianne considering running the other way, but the dog was fast and bowled her over before she had turned. She let out a yelp ready to scream, but the dog licked her face like crazy his tail wagging so hard that his whole body was shaking with the effort. “Imp, get off the young woman!” Marianne turned at the sound of the voice and saw a youngish woman with long blue hair up on her head in a messy bun standing there. 

The dog jumped off Marianne running over to the young woman who rubbed his ears. She was wearing a long shimmering evening gown and she was barefoot. Marianne blinked. As she pushed herself to her feet, she asked carefully. “Are you the witch?” 

The woman giggled. “Oh, well that's just rude! Are you the witch...no hi, my name is so and so. Well hi so and so! I'm Plum. Nice to meet you. Would you like to come in for some tea?” 

Marianne blinked in surprise. “Ah...hi...I'm Marianne and sure, tea sounds nice.” 

The woman tittered. “Well good then, come on in. This is my friend Imp. Don't mind him, he simply loves everyone.” 

The huge fuzzy dog seemed to grin up at her and if Marianne had been asked she would have said that dog winked. 

“So, you're here looking for the witch. What can I do for you?” Plum escorted Marianne into the house. The inside looked like a witch's house interior from Pinterest, dried herbs and flowers, tea pots and glass balls hanging from the ceiling. The furniture was all old and cushy looking with mismatched colors and conflicting designs that all seemed to strangely blend perfectly. 

Marianne tried not to stare, but it was difficult. She turned back to the witch. “Uh...yeah I'm here about Bog King.” 

Plum blinked then smiled slowly. “Really? And why are you here about him?” 

Marianne frowned. “Well, the curse of course! You need to lift it. He has suffered enough.” 

Plum frowned, then walked into her kitchen. “Let me make us some chamomile tea, shall I?” 

Marianne followed her. “I'm serious! Bog doesn't deserve this curse! It's gone on too long.” 

Plum turned, her dress making a softly rustling sound. “Why do you care what happens to Bog King?” 

Marianne stopped short. “I care because he is my friend.” 

Plum tilted her head sideways looking at Marianne. It was rather uncomfortable to be stared at the way Plum was doing it. “You care for him more than that, don't you?” she said pointedly. 

Marianne frowned. “No, I mean...no we're just friends.” 

Plum smiled softly. “I can't break the curse. Once it's in motion it can only be broken by true love. There is nothing I can do.” 

Marianne snarled. “That can't be right! This is magic—all of it! Can't you magic it away?” 

Plum turned back to making tea. “No dear, magic doesn't work that way.” 

Marianne slammed her fist against the wall surprising herself with the anger of her response. Plum turned to look at her, a soft smile on her face. “Look, the power to break the curse is there. It's easy, but Bog refuses to see it. Perhaps you can help him?” 

“But what is it?” Marianne pleaded, but Plum only sighed. “I'm sorry, but that is just not how any of this works. You want to help Bog? Then you need to be there for him. Show him you care. That is all I can tell you.” 

Marianne sighed, defeated. She dropped her back against the wall as Plum walked over and handed her a tea cup painted with primroses on it, the clean smell of herbal tea floating from the cup. “Drink this dear, it will help you relax, but I can also tell you this...perhaps you should examine your reasons for coming to me for Bog? I am going to assume he has no idea you're here, does he?” 

Marianne sipped the tea. It tasted of honey and summer fields...so odd. “No. He doesn't.” 

Plum's voice took on a strange sing song quality as she spoke. “Why is it so important to you Marianne? What does he mean to you?” 

Marianne frowned. Did she tell the witch her name? 

“He means a great deal to me...” 

“Think about that Marianne...think about how much he means to you...” Her voice was so soft Marianne thought, like the witch was singing. 

“What does he mean to you?” 

* 

When Marianne woke up, she was in the car with Griselda. She sat up straight, making Griselda who was driving jump a foot nearly losing control of the car. “Jesus Christ, Marianne!” Griselda held onto the wheel getting the car back under control. 

Marianne blinked looking around. “How did I get back here?” 

Griselda glanced sideways at her with a frown on her face. “Plum brought you out. She said you fell asleep. I didn't stick around to ask a lot of questions. She asked me to take you home so I'm taking you home.” 

Marianne rubbed her eyes. “That was so strange...” 

“You are lucky to get out of there without anything bad happening to you. Bog would have killed me.” Griselda grimaced as she drove. 

“Did she say anything about Bog's curse?” Griselda asked after a quiet moment. 

“She said that the way to break it was right in front of him or something to that effect.” Marianne rubbed her eyes. She was so confused feeling. She felt she had learned something important, but she couldn't remember what that was... 

“Well, let's get you home okay? I can call a cab to take me back.” Griselda reach over and patted the younger woman's leg. Marianne nodded. “Alright. Thanks.” 

* 

Roland loaded the pictures onto his computer. He was so excited! He had gotten them!! For a moment he thought about printing them out or emailing them to the police, but then he stopped himself...no...wait...he should go for the main prize—the monster in the house. But he could use these pictures...he knew who to contact and who to show them to...there might be more than simply proving he wasn't crazy...there might be a buck to be made too. 

Roland grinned as he picked up his cellphone. It rang a couple of times before someone picked up on the other end. 

“Hey Richard. Roland here. Yeah, I'm fine man. Look, I got something that might make us both some money. You still friends with that guy who runs the gossip/monster rag? Good, good. I am going to send you some pictures to show him and you can promise him, they are not fake and there is a bigger monster out there and I can get him pictures....yes, I'm dead serious. Okay, call me when you hear from him. Okay—emailing you the pics now.” 

With that Roland attached the pictures to an email...not the best ones, but enough to show he was serious. 

Two days later Roland got his response. If he could provide more pictures they would pay him a grand, if he could produce a body he would earn ten to twelve grand. But if he could capture the creature alive...twenty-five thousand dollars...and Roland got the press for being the one to capture it. 

Roland grinned. Looked like he was going to need to invest in a tranq-gun. It was nice to know people in just the right places.


	9. Doing the Time Warp

(During Roland's plotting) 

Griselda advised Marianne to make no mention to Bog of her morning adventure and Marianne agreed whole-heartedly. She wasn't really sure what she would say anyway! The more time that passed since that morning, the harder it was for her to recall the events with any real clarity. So much of it seemed like a dream; putting it out of her thoughts was quite easy. Marianne headed over to Bog's later that day, stopping in town to grab them something for dinner on her way. 

* 

Bog was in a panic. He had not seen Marianne all day, no word from her at all and no word from his mother...anyone. He had sent Stuff and Thang out several times, but they had not seen her car or any trace of her. Bog was ready to go out looking for her himself; he was so terrified that something horrible had happened to her, a car accident, some sort of injury...his mind made up so many upsetting scenarios that he had finally decided to head out. He had just gone down the stairs, his blue eyes expressing his frantic state of mind when he heard a car rumbling in the driveway. 

* 

Marianne parked and was in the middle of pulling out bags of Chinese food when she heard Bog's voice behind her. It was slightly broken with emotion. “Marianne?” 

She turned grinning about to say hi when suddenly she dropped the bag as Bog rushed her, wrapping his long arms tightly around her. His voice broke with a sob. “Oh, Marianne!” 

He held her tightly against him, leaned down to have his face buried against her neck. Marianne didn't move at first she was so surprised by the embrace, but then she carefully wrapped her arms around him. She felt his wings under her hands, strangely soft. She leaned into him holding him tightly in return. “I'm sorry, Bog.” 

He didn't loosen his grip as he whispered. “I was so scared something had happened to you.” 

Marianne pressed her cheek against his head. It had to be uncomfortable for him all folded down holding her like he was... “I'm okay, Bog. I'm so sorry.” 

He squeezed her and she could feel a slight tremble in him. “Bog. I am sorry. I didn't mean to worry you.” 

She pulled back from him just enough to take his face in her hands, tilting him up so she could look into his eyes. His blue eyes were rimmed in red, the hint of tears glistened on the edges. 

“Oh, Bog.” She whispered again. 

They were so close, staring into each others eyes. She cupped the side of his face stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. He leaned into her touch. Just as Marianne guided his face even closer, Thang piped up. “Oh, there she is BK!!” 

Marianne and Bog jerked hitting noses and stumbling back from each other. 

Bog growled. “Yes, Thang I see that, thank you.” 

Thang grinned, but Stuff rolled her eyes grabbing her partner and disappearing into the house. 

Bog flushed looking down awkwardly at his clawed feet. “Ah...let me help you with those bags.” 

Marianne smiled at him as her heart thumped hard inside her chest. “Yeah, thanks.” 

* 

It had been a week since Marianne's visit with the witch. The memory had faded enough that if someone were to ask her specifically what had happened, Marianne would not be able to give a straight answer. 

* 

The masquerade dance was the following weekend and Marianne was working on Bog's “costume.” They had come up with a few fake parts and a mask; as long as no one examined him too closely he should be safe. She had also bought a cape for him to wear over his wings. She had told him it was dashing, but Bog insisted he looked like an idiot. 

Turning one way then the other, Bog frowned looking at himself in a mirror. Marianne had lugged the stupid giant piece of glass from her home so they could see his costume in its full glory. She had grinned. 

Bog made a face. “What am I suppose to tell people I am?” 

“You are Oberon! You know...from a Midsummer's Night Dream?” Marianne grinned while she tweaked at his costume parts. 

Bog frowned. “Uh...I thought Oberon was a fairy, not a monster?” 

Bog had to snort a laugh at the look on Marianne's face reflected in the mirror behind him. The way she rolled her eyes looked like it might be painful. 

“Sorry,” he muttered with a slight smile. She stuck her tongue out at him before he sighed turning around. “So what is your costume?” 

“I am going to be Titania.” She grinned, though Bog blushed. 

He didn't know much about such things, but a “couples” costume? Did she realize? 

He swallowed. “You are going so look beautiful.” 

Marianne flushed. “Well, you will get to decide next weekend.” 

* 

Roland had followed Marianne around the last few days as well as staking out the monster's lair. He had finally figured out what Marianne was up to...she was going to take the monster to the costume party!!! He could not believe his luck! He was sitting in his car when he figured it out and he was so excited he slammed his fist up into the roof of his car. “Youch!” He yanked his hand back down cradling it against his chest. 

Not only would the monster be in a perfect place to expose it for what it was, but it would also allow him to capture it! With witnesses!! It was glorious!! He was so excited!! 

He didn't even have to try to figure out how to get in! Being himself...Roland Knight...naturally he had an invitation already. Now...to make arrangements to capture a monster and to wear the perfect costume! 

* 

Later that evening, Bog was sitting nervously on the floor waiting for Marianne to bring in the popcorn for their movie night. He was sitting cross-legged on the pillows his long clawed fingers folded in his lap in front of him, his long elegant wings draped behind him like a cape. 

He was terrified of this party, but he wanted to make Marianne happy. He understood what she was trying to do for him. He did. But he also didn't think he was meant for “normal” things. He knew he wasn't meant for love or happiness. The curse made sure of that, but he wanted so much to spend a whole night with Marianne, being as close to normal as he could. 

He wanted to watch her laugh, to dance with her in his arms. To pretend that he could take off the monstrous form and love her like a man. For her not to be ashamed to be seen with him because no one would know he was a monster. 

He hung his head, swallowing on his pain. But he was a monster and even this moment of happiness was selfish on his part. HE knew he was falling in love with her and it was wrong and stupid! She could never love a monster like him. He couldn't tell her, couldn't burden her or frighten her by telling her something so hideous as himself was in love with her. 

But he wanted to go to this party...one night of being...normal. Was that too much for him to ask, to pretend that she could love him for one night? 

Just then Marianne came in with the bowl of popcorn and, to his surprise, two six-packs of beer dangling from her fingers. She laughed at the look on his face. “Don't worry. I already decided that, if it's okay with you, I would spend the night. No drinking and driving! I have a bag in the back of the car with some clothes. Besides, these movies really need to be watched with beer.” 

Bog was barely listening to the rest of what she said...the last thing he heard was that she was spending the night, in his house, in pajamas... 

He was snapped back to the present as she sat down, handing the popcorn to him and setting the beer in front of them. “Oh wait—do you care if I go get my bag first? Then I could put on my jammies and get really comfy!” 

Bog nodded numbly and Marianne grinned, jumping up and kissing his cheek before she hurried out. His wings buzzed a little as his realization that she was going to be spending the night sunk in a bit further. He knew nothing was going to happen but just the idea that she was here, comfortable...she had just said getting comfy...with him in his house. 

He grinned stupidly. 

He heard Marianne trot outside, the sound of the car doors and then her coming back in. She yelled she would be just a minute as Bog sat there staring blankly with a goofy look on his face while she changed and came back. That was when he was sure his mind was going to short circuit. She was wearing a pair of purple boxer shorts and a tank top with flowers dancing across her breasts. She also had a pair of slouchy grey socks on her feet. She had washed her face, clearing away any makeup. 

She looked divine. Bog stared at her as she walked back and nestled into their nest of blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the television. 

She leaned over just enough...giving Bog a gorgeous if unintended view of her rear end while she slipped in the DVD of Rocky Horror Picture Show before she nestled back again next to him. She reached over grabbing two beers and popping the tops handing one to Bog and then she did the damnest thing in a list of damn things and leaned against him as the movie started. 

* 

Soon, three beers in and Bog was laughing with Marianne, especially when she got up and started to do the time warp! “Come on Bog, you can do it!!” She grabbed his hands pulling him to his feet. She put his hands on his waist. “Okay, follow me!” 

Soon the two of them were in hysterics laughing as they were both tipsy and bumped into each other. It was clear they were both lightweights in regards to drinking. Bog grabbed her pulling her against him and danced her around the room. She grinned up at him as he danced around, his face open and unguarded. His fabulous blue eyes sparkled with merriment and his smile made her warm all over. 

Each of them was enchanted with the other. Marianne smiled and laid her head against his chest wrapping his arms around her so that they could slow dance while the movie played in the background. 

Bog swallowed looking down at her. He slowed his movements until he was basically just rocking back and forth while he held her against him. Marianne sighed. “This is nice, Bog.” 

“Aye, it is...” he whispered softly. 

They moved around the room while Tim Curry talked in the background. Bog's eyes were only on her as she pressed against him, her hands on his waist. He slowly stroked the tips of his claws down her back. Marianne made a soft humming noise which encouraged him to do it again. He smiled holding her, smelling the sweet fragrance of her hair. 

He couldn't resist the urge to kiss the top of her head, so he did, giving in to temptation. Marianne made a happy contented noise leaning heavily against him. He directed them back to the nest of pillows and blankets so they could return to their seats. 

Marianne sighed. “You know you're a really good dancer Bog.” 

He chuckled, getting situated. “Thanks.” 

Marianne moved things around a bit. “Hey, do you have some pillows and stuff up in your room? We could camp down here, if that is okay with you?” 

Bog blushed. “Ah sure.” 

“Care if I run up and get them?” Marianne stood up. 

“Uh, no go ahead.” Bog grinned and Marianne took off. 

She took the stairs two at a time and opened Bog's bedroom door. She was a bit tipsy, but not too bad yet as she flipped on the light. That was when she realized she had never been in Bog's room before. 

She stood there looking around, her eyes wide. 

The room was simple, but two things drew her attention. One was the fact that there were grooves in the walls from claws and several damaged pieces of furniture, but the other thing that drew her attention were the paintings and drawings on one side of the room. The biggest painting sat on an easel by itself was of her with the most gorgeous pair of wings she had ever seen. 

It was...beautiful. 

She walked over to the painting and stared at it. The way he had painted her...not only was he incredibly skilled, there was a magic in his artwork. The little bit of drunkenness Marianne had been feeling seemed to melt away as she reached out and gingerly touched the painting. Her heart tightened in her chest and a tender smile danced across her lips. 

She swallowed, her cheeks red, her eyes stinging with tears, but she swiftly gathered up some pillows and blankets. 

When she got back down Bog was sipping at another beer, chortling at whatever was going on during the movie. She, on the other hand, was too busy staring at him from the doorway, her arms loaded with blankets and pillows. She smiled. She wasn't exactly sure what it was she was feeling, it had been there for a few weeks, but at this moment, knowing how he felt about her—judging by the heart and soul he had put into the artwork upstairs—that unidentified feeling grew even more and spread through her. 

Bog glanced over and grinned. It was the most adorable grin she had ever seen. 

“Okay, let's camp out!” 

* 

They were well into the other six pack and their second movie. With Bog's help, they had moved some furniture around and made up a blanket fort with as many pillows as they could find around the house. Marianne was snuggled up against Bog, his arm around her shoulders while they laughed at some movie Marianne had stuck in; she wasn't even really sure what movie it was because all her attention was on Bog. She was comfortably buzzing again with a couple of more beers and Bog's warm arm around her. She eventually slid down so that her head was resting on a pillow on his lap. Bog stroked his claws through her hair. She smiled dozily and happily. 

She woke up once during the night, the TV having gone to a blue screen at some point. Bog was lying behind her on his side, an arm wrapped around her waist. She smiled contentedly at the warm feel of his body aligned behind hers. He made a soft little snoring sound that had her grinning sleepily.

His grip around her waist tightened slightly, his body shifting to hold her more snugly. Marianne drifted back to sleep with the thought that she could happily stay like this forever.


	10. Falling

Marianne woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside. She smiled sleepily, snuggling into the pillows and blankets, the warm arm around her. She was so comfortable she didn't want to move. Marianne's head was nestled against Bog's chest, her nose pressed against the warmth of his scaled body, listening to the sound of his heart and the rhythm of his breathing. He had a hand resting on her hip, his face rolled toward her so her head was under his chin, her arm around his waist. He smelled so good, like woodland and rich spices. 

Never had she felt so safe and so comfortable. Her fingers brushed his back causing him to move slightly. He made the softest, most delicious sounding moan, tightening his sleeping grip around her. She could even feel his morning...anatomy...against her. The sweatpants he liked to wear did nothing to hide what was currently going on. 

For a moment, just a moment, curiosity almost won. The urge to look...or touch, was difficult to resist. 

She could feel him, hard and very warm...and all thoughts about Bog's current anatomy were answered when he pressed against her. She blushed at herself and tried not to let her mind's curiosity get the better of her. The urge to maybe stray a hand down there or to take a look was almost overpowering, but she managed to keep herself under control. 

His hand slipped around her hips, claws gentle, but very erotic as she felt them against her rear-end when he moaned in his sleep. “Oh, Marianne...” pressing his hips up against her. The feeling of him, almost demanding against her, the very slight movement to his hips against her pelvis, made heat immediately rush to her groin and breasts. She wanted him to touch her! She responded back with a slight shift of her hips, when suddenly she felt him go very, very still; his breathing had changed. 

Oh damn, she thought, he's awake. 

Bog started to move, trying to untangle himself from her. She decided to help him, not wanting him to be uncomfortable. She pretended to roll over in her sleep. But she couldn't let him completely go, she was being selfish, she knew it, but at the last moment, she wrapped her arms around his arm that encircled her, keeping the limb with her when she rolled away from him. She felt Bog stiffen again, going very still. 

Tears sprang to her eyes while she hugged his long scaled arm with hers. Oh, Marianne what are you doing? You are falling in love, that's what you're doing! Falling deeply in love. 

She knew in that moment, she would do anything for him. She would stay with him as long as he would have her and she would protect him. He didn't have to love her back. She would be there for him however she could. 

When Bog seemed to realize he was not going to get his arm back, he tried to settle down. She could feel the way he was controlling his breathing and trying not to press himself up against her back. She was being selfish keeping his arm around her, but she couldn't help it. She loved the way he made her feel. She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes as she squeezed them shut. 

After a few tense minutes, he finally seemed to relax and a few minutes more she felt him doze off, the shift in his breathing, the relaxing of his arm and then the sweet tickle of his breath in her hair. 

She laid there with her eyes closed holding onto his arm and thinking to herself that she would always hold on to him. No matter what. 

* 

Bog was trying to calm down. He was embarrassed and ashamed of his reaction to having Marianne up against him. He closed his eyes tightly when she wrapped her arms around his arm. He wondered if she realized what she was doing? How could she even stand to touch him? 

He wanted so much to yank away from her, but at the same time he wanted to stay like this forever...if this was all he could ever have, he wanted it to last until the day he finally died. Just to have her hug his arm and pretend for a short time that he deserved her. He pressed his lips against her hair whispering in his mind that he loved her. I love you Marianne, his mind screamed, yearning to tell her, but forever silenced. He would never burden her with that knowledge. He simply kissed her head and held her with one arm. 

Neither of them noticed the soft shimmer between them; it was faint, more a ghost of a glow...magic wanting to come into existence, but unable to be fully realized...yet. Just as the magic had started to flare, it also faded away. It lacked the power to make itself stronger. 

* 

Neither of them said a word about how they woke up, or what had happened during the early morning hours. Bog withdrew. He was quiet the remainder of that day. Marianne thought she heard him in his room destroying something. She wanted so much to run up the stairs to him, to comfort him, but she remained downstairs insecure and uncertain. She felt, strange, as if she had missed a chance, that something vital had been lost, but she couldn't figure out what it was or how to get it back again. But her heart ached painfully. 

For Bog's part, he sequestered himself in his room for the rest of the time Marianne was there that day. He hated himself so much. He loved her so deeply and he hated it. He wanted to rip the scales from his body, to find a way to destroy himself, so that she wouldn't be dragged into his curse any further, so she wouldn't have to deal with him, wouldn't have a monster who loved her. 

That night after Marianne was gone, Bog plunged into an even deeper depression than he had ever been in before now. He didn't know what to do, he loved her and wanted to be near her, but he didn't want her to be subjected to his love. He wanted to free her, to let her go, but he desperately wanted her to stay. He tore through his room, at himself, destroying his pictures, tearing his paintings, tears of pain and rage at himself flowing down his face. He ripped at his scales like he had when he'd first been cursed until he was a bleeding mess, the remains of his art shredded around him. 

He had to let her go, he had to...he loved her. 

He turned to the last painting. The one of Marianne and her wings...flying over a field of flowers. His claws hovered over it, ready to destroy it. He had wanted no memory of her here when he set her free, nothing to bring back the pain. But as he gazed at this painting...he knew he couldn't destroy it. 

He laid his hand gently against it. “Maybe it will be good to have one reminder of her...” he whispered to his darkened room. 

* 

When Marianne arrived the next day and went to unlock the gate she found a note attached to it, like she had before when she first started working here. She frowned taking it down and unfolding it. 

“Your debt is paid. You're no longer needed. B.” 

Marianne stared at the elegant script then glanced up at the house. 

“Oh no, you did not just dismiss me, Bog.” 

She had come back here because she was in love. She had decided last night lying in bed that it didn't matter if Bog loved her or not; she knew he needed her and she would not abandon him. Ever. No matter what, they were still friends. She had just decided to never say a word about how she felt about him. It would remain her secret, no matter how much it hurt. 

She opened the gate...ha! He forgot to lock it! Then she drove her car through. 

Bog was lying on the floor. He had fallen asleep there after giving the note to Stuff to put on the gate. He thought he heard a car...but he couldn't have...he had set her free, dismissed her from this house of monsters. 

Pushing himself off the floor, he was sore and achy. His eyes felt swollen. He looked out the window and there was Marianne getting out of her car. She leaned into the vehicle and came out again with a box of what had to be doughnuts. Bog burst out with a laugh. 

* 

Marianne carried in the doughnuts only to find Thang waiting for her. He grinned. “Hey, Miss Marianne.” 

“It's just Marianne, Thang.” 

“BK isn't feeling well,” the little...thing muttered. 

“Why?” Marianne squatted down, but that was when Stuff came out of nowhere startling her and grabbed Thang by his ear. “It's nothing, Marianne. Bog just had a bad night.” Marianne watched as Thang was dragged off into the darkness of a corner. She snorted. She figured she was never going to figure those two out. 

She heard creaking and looked up the stairs to see Bog standing there. He looked terrible. It was hard to tell in the house's dim light, but there looked to be some makeshift bandages on his arms, chest and he looked...pale. 

“I left you a note.” His voice sounded funny...maybe he really was coming down with a cold. 

“It was stupid so I chose to ignore it.” She smiled. 

She felt the laugh more than she heard it as Bog spoke again, staying in the dim lighting on the stairs so she couldn't really get a good look at his face. 

“Why, Marianne? Why stay when you don't have to?” There was clear confusion in his words. 

“Bog, we're friends right? I will always be your friend and I like working here. Besides, don't you dare go messing up our couple's costume by bailing on me! And I brought doughnuts which I can't eat all on my own!” She held the box up with one hand, the other hand fisted against her hip. 

Bog chuckled. “Fine, since you brought doughnuts.” 

For a moment he cursed himself for his weakness, but it was so wonderful to see her. 

Marianne made no mention of the injuries she saw on him. She wanted to but things between them seemed...delicate. So she said not a word but her heart ached. She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him, to kiss his face and assure him that he was worthy of so much, that she loved him...but like a fool, she said nothing. 

* 

Roland spend his whole week before the dance getting ready for his big hunt. First, the most important thing was to get his costume together. He was wearing a full suit of armor, not real armor or course! It had to be light enough for him to move in as well as looking good. He was going as St. George the dragonslayer! The perfect costume to go with his hunting equipment! And once he had exposed the monster, then he would be a hero just like St. George! He would get the girl and the money and everything!! Roland laughed, not noticing the slightly manic sound to it. He could see the headlines now. “Gorgeous Knight in shining armor rescues whole party from dangerous monster!” Roland giggled and stomped his feet in glee. This whole set up couldn't be more perfect!!! 

* 

It was the day of the dance. 

Bog was so nervous that he was trembling as Marianne put on the final touches of his makeup and costume. Neither of them had said a word about that night they spent together. They both chose to ignore their feelings for the other. This created a tight ball of magic between them that neither of them were aware of, though the magic was becoming more strained. A spell so close to breaking could quickly become dangerous and break, shattering any attempt to fix it. But neither of them were aware of the danger they had inadvertently created. Even if they knew, there was no telling if anything could be done. The spell was in a twisted knot, so close to release, yet so far. And the two of them had both tightened their hold on their feelings thinking they were protecting the other. 

* 

Marianne kept touching his face and hands gently to reassure him while she worked on his makeup. She even told him he didn't have to do this. “I understand if you don't want to go, Bog. I really do. We can just stay here, have another movie night. It will be fun!” She stroked her fingertips tenderly along his jaw not even realizing she was caressing him. 

He swallowed. “No no, I'm going to do this. You're right, it would be good for me. Besides, I really want to see you in that dress.” 

He gave her a smile. Marianne grinned in return. 

She had brought her costume over that morning with her. All designed and sewed by her little sister. The dress was all in shades of purple and blue with a thick gold collar that fit around Marianne's neck to hold the silky fabric up, the sleeves hooked to the collar, leaving her shoulders bare and hanging the full length of the dress which had the hint of an empire cut to waist. The wings were purple, almost a duplicate of the wings he had painted her with. They shimmered, looking like they were sprinkled with tiny diamonds against the purple backdrop of the wings themselves, and the headdress was just a simple band of gold that held a “fake” amethyst stone. 

When she had brought the dress in Bog's heart had nearly stopped. She was going to look so beautiful! It was his painting of her come to life! 

He would never know that Marianne had based the design on his painting, forcing her sister to alter the dress and wings before the big day. 

* 

“You look perfect, Bog.” Marianne smiled at him, her eyes soft with tenderness as she rubbed her thumb along his lower lip wiping away a smear of makeup. “You look quite handsome.” 

Bog snort. “Aye, for a bug maybe.” 

Marianne gave him a stern look. “Hey! What did I say about talking like that?” 

Bog chuckled. “That yer going to kick me arse.” 

“That's right buddy.” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a glare that had Bog laughing again. 

“Fine, fine...I'll stop.” 

“Well, I am going to go get my outfit on, okay? You just sit there and let the makeup and glue dry, yeah?” 

Bog nodded. “Okay.” 

He watched her head out with a smile on his face. She was just so lovely. He sighed forlornly, folding his hands in his lap to wait. 

As he sat in the kitchen waiting for her, Stuff and Thang came in to get a look at him. Thang grinned. “Wow BK, you look good! 

He blushed. “Thank you.” 

Stuff frowned with concern.” You going to be alright?” 

Bog shrugged. “I think so. I...I don't know, but...yeah.” 

Stuff frowned. “I understand. At least Marianne will be with you.” 

Bog nodded. He was about to say something else when Marianne swept into the kitchen and his mouth dropped open. 

He knew she was going to look beautiful, but...this was more than that! She was....magical...enchanting...he couldn't think of a word that fit how beautiful she looked. 

She smiled and spun around slowly, holding out the skirt of the dress. “So what do you think?” 

Bog sputtered “It's...ah....it's...perfect,” he finished lamely. 

She grinned, her cheeks turning a bright crimson. “Ya really think so? I mean, Dawn always does such a good job, but I wasn't sure how I would look in it.” 

“You...yer fantastic.” Bog grinned feeling silly since he was terrible with words. 

Marianne blushed again. “Ready?” 

Bog nodded as Marianne put her hand out to him and lifted him to his feet. He stared down at her, the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her was so strong that for the briefest of moments Bog almost gave into it. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and kiss her until the sun rose. 

But instead he held her hand and allowed her to lead him out to the car. 

* 

Getting into the vehicle for both of them was a lot more awkward than anticipated, with a lot of tucking and shifting and hushed cursing, but finally Bog was in the car without losing the fake parts of his costume and Marianne was in the driver's seat without tearing her dress or her wings. 

Bog had his hands in his lap, his clawed fingers twitching nervously as she drove. When they finally arrived at the party, Bog's heart sank. There were so many people. 

His breathing picked up as blood rushed to his face, making him feel slightly dizzy. “I don't know if I can do this, Marianne.” 

She drove her car up and a young man dressed as a zombie was directing people where to park. “Lot more people than I thought...” she muttered to herself. 

She glanced sideways at Bog. He was so nervous that he was nearly vibrating with tension. “We can go back, it's no big deal. Have our own party?” 

Bog glanced at her. Oh gosh, she thought. His blue eyes were so nervous and just a little bit scared that Marianne would have to be blind not to notice how he felt right now. 

She was about ready to run over people and trees to get him out of there when he murmured, “No. I can do this. One dance and we can go.” 

He gave her that crooked tooth smile that made her heart melt. Without realizing it, her love grew more in the moment. That magic between them became tighter, more dangerous. 

“One dance, then we are going home.” She gave him a determined smile as she was directed to a parking spot. 

* 

Inside the event, Roland was pacing as he went over his plan in his head. He had a taser, a tranq gun, a real pistol that he had slipped in, a net, some duct tape for tying hands and feet and most importantly his phone and go camera. He was ready to make history! 

That was when Roland caught sight of Marianne. Wow, he thought...she was really...but then he saw the creature beside her, holding her hand!!! That made him so angry that the monster would touch her! And then a wicked smile formed across his face.

Soon he would expose the creature and Marianne would be back in his arms!


	11. Tales as Old as Time

Marianne held Bog's hand tightly, threading her fingers through his as they made their way inside. She could feel his trembling as they stepped into the party. The music was loud, pumping through the hall being played by a live band. Some people were dancing while others milled about drinking or eating. 

And there were a LOT of people here! Far more than Marianne had anticipated. 

Marianne glanced at Bog who looked around with wide blue eyes. He looked lost, scared and lonely even though—or because—there were people everywhere. She gently tugged on him and he leaned in close to her so she could talk against his ear. “Let' go get something to drink.” 

Bog nodded giving her a tentative smile. Marianne led him over to the bar that had been set up. It was fairly crowded, but she managed to wedge them into a spot at the far end. She ordered herself a soda since she was driving, but she got Bog a shot of Scottish Whiskey, hoping it would calm his nerves. 

He downed the shot like it was water. Marianne smirked and ordered him another one. She was beginning to think this is a terrible idea. She was angry with herself because she was the idiot who dragged him here, out in public. Marianne sighed. She needed to take him home where he would be safe and comfortable. 

As she turned and leaned against the counter, she looked around. So many costumed people dancing and talking everywhere. For a moment she tensed. She could have sworn she saw Roland for a split second, but before she got a better look, someone rammed into her side. “MARIANNE!!!” 

Marianne laughed as her sister nearly bowled her over. Bog jumped a food, but quickly regained his composure. 

“Oh Marianne, you look so good in that dress!” Dawn squealed and Marianne did a little spin. Dawn's boyfriend Sunny reached out toward Bog. “Hey man, nice you meet you; name's Sunny.” 

Bog looked down at Sunny's hand then at Sunny. He took a breath and slowly put his hand out, taking Sunny's in a tentative grip. “Bog.” 

“Hey, Bog. Nice to meet you. That is some costume! I mean WOW!” Sunny grinned at him and Bog found himself stuck for what to say.. “Ah...thank you? I like yours too.” 

Dawn was dressed as a pixie in a short little green dress and a lovely pair of tiny glittery wings while Sunny was dressed like a Tolkien elf, long hair and Tolkien armor. 

Dawn tittered, wrapping her arms around Sunny from behind. “Isn't he gorgeous?” 

Sunny blushed. “Ah Dawn...” 

Dawn released her boyfriend and circled around her sister's date. 

“Wow, you must be Bog, the guy my sister works for? She said the two of you were coming together! I love your costume! Geez who made it?” 

Bog glanced at Marianne then blurted. “Marianne!” 

“Wow sis; he looks awesome. I didn't know you were so crafty! You two are the best fairy couple! So awesome!” Dawn grinned just before throwing her arms around Bog in a hug. Bog's blue eyes were wide, his whole body stiff, arms pinned at his sides as Dawn hugged the stuffing out of him. 

Marianne laughed. “I should have warned you about my sister...she really likes to hug.” 

Marianne tried not to laugh, but Bog looked so terror stricken at being squeezed by her tiny sunflower of a sister, that it was difficult to refrain from laughing. 

Dawn let go of Bog giving him a huge smile before grabbing her boyfriend's hand. “Well, we'll see you guys around—we have to go shake our booties!!” 

Dawn dragged her boyfriend away leaving Bog looking as if he had been been through a tornado. He glanced at Marianne. “That's your sister, the one who took a primrose?” 

She nodded. 

Bog smiled. “Glad you took her place; she is way too high energy for me.” 

Marianne laughed. “She's way too high energy for me! But you will never find a sweeter person.” 

The way Marianne smiled at the retreating form of her sister made Bog's heart warm even more. He reached out and ran a clawed tip along her hair, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She turned that gentle smile on him, leaning into his touch. 

She took a breath. “Come on, they just changed the music. Let's go dance...then we can go home.” 

She took his hand in hers and led him out to the dance floor. Bog's heart hammered uncomfortably. 

Not just because he was being dragged onto the dance floor, but also because “we can go home.” 

“We” not, let me take you home, but we can go home. He berated himself for reading too much into that, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from feeling a smidge of joy that those words. 

* 

Roland had made his way over to the corner of the dance floor watching Marianne and the monster. Roland felt slightly sick to his stomach watching the thing. It was touching her! And she kept SMILING AT IT! Like she was enjoying its company! Maybe it had her under a spell or something? That had to be it! 

* 

The music played slowly, a nice melody for a slow dance. Marianne took Bog's hand placing it around her waist before taking his other clawed hand in hers. She looked up at him and the smile that formed across her face was beautiful as those deep brown eyes of hers smiled up at him. 

Bog swallowed nervously looking down at her. She was so beautiful, the lights dancing in her eyes, her face alight. 

“Marianne, what am I doing here? I don't belong here...” His voice hitched when he spoke. 

“Just dance with me Bog.” She smiled up at him and he realized that it was the most beautiful smile Bog had ever seen in all his life, a smile he could gaze at for the rest of his life. 

She laid her head against his chest as they began to move to the music. He blushed, but she felt good in his arms; he never wanted to let her go. He danced her around the room gracefully, the people around them disappearing while they danced together. 

They came around once and Bog happened to see Sunny and Dawn dancing next to them. Sunny had his head against Dawn's chest, instead of the other way around. 

Sunny smile and winked at Bog as they passed one another. Bog chuckled. If nothing ever changed in his life...if Marianne eventually left, at least he had this moment with her. 

She glanced up at him again. Bog smiled back, his crooked, fanged teeth in that slightly lopsided grin made her heart beat faster, but he also made her blood boil. She found him so attractive; it was so strange to feel this heated pull toward someone who looked nothing like what she thought she would want or find attractive, but she did...he was—amazing. 

She surprised him when the hand on his shoulder slipped up behind his neck. She gently tugged him, urging him to lower his head toward her. Her fingers caressed his neck waiting for him to comply. She felt Bog tremble, a soft quiver that was intoxicating, even erotic... 

He lowered his head, his blue eyes so bright blue with a soft questioning look, she could get lost in them. “Bog?” 

He smiled and Marianne brushed her nose against his, her mouth coming close to his, so close she could feel the tickle of his breath against her lips when he whispered. “Marianne?” 

Then she kissed him. Marianne's fingers pressed against the back of his neck, her mouth capturing his...he started to pull away, but when her tongue brushed against his closed mouth he gave in...he was weak against her. 

The kiss was slow and deep, their tongues twisting and sliding. It was a kiss that melted through her. Bog's whole being shuddered at the feel of Marianne in his arms, her lips against his, her tongue warm and wet against his tongue. The intensity of the kiss made his eyes burn, tears starting to slowly roll down from his eyes. Marianne made a soft little sound, a moan. She reluctantly pulled her mouth from his and smiled at him. Bog's face blossomed with happiness. 

Bog took her and spun her out, holding onto her hand, dancing around her moving gracefully. Marianne's smile broadened as she let him twirl her and bring her back into his embrace. They matched each other moving in perfect harmony as if they were the only two people on the dance floor, the crowd around them completely forgotten. 

* 

Roland's face contorted with rage watching the monster dancing with Marianne. His rage took over and instead of trying to be careful, he knew that he had to get that monster away from Marianne right now!! 

* 

They had moved gradually to the middle of the dance floor, when suddenly Bog felt something cold in his side. “Let her go or I will shoot you right here. Dead or alive, it doesn't really matter to me, but I think I might get a lot more for you alive than dead.” 

Bog went still and Marianne looked up at him in confusion. “Bog?” 

That was the moment she saw Roland standing behind him. “Roland, what the hell are you doing?” 

“Get back, Marianne!!” Roland yelled loudly enough that people nearby looked at them. “I want everyone's attention!!” Roland grabbed Bog, yanking him backward. Bog spun and snarled at Roland, backhanding him hard enough that Roland hit the floor on his rear and slid across it. 

Marianne grabbed Bog's hand. “Come on, let's go!” 

Roland yelled. “Stop him!!! He's a real monster!!!” 

The crowd, that had grown quiet at the sudden attack started to laugh. Roland looked around at them as if they were idiots, his eyes wide. “I'm serious!!” 

Marianne was tugging Bog with her through the crowd. They heard Roland behind them yell. 

“I can prove it!!!” 

Marianne kept moving, but then suddenly Bog's hand slipped from hers and she heard him gasp in pain. She turned to see Roland had hit him in the back with a taser! 

Bog stiffened, his wings snapped out with the sudden electrical shock, hitting Roland again and knocking him backward. But this time when Roland fell back he had grabbed hold of Bog's cape. The same moment his wings had snapped out was when Bog felt the cape pull away. Roland tore it from Bog's back, revealing his wings to the crowd around them. 

Bog dropped to his knees, his hands gripping his thighs as the electrical charge moved through him, tensing his muscles painfully. Roland, sensing his victory at hand, rushed forward, pulling out his tranq gun and shot, hitting Bog in the back of the neck. Roland shot again, hitting Bog between his wings. 

Marianne screamed. “BOG!!” 

His blue eyes connected with hers just before Bog dropped sideways, slamming against the floor. For Marianne it all happened in slow motion, Bog hitting the floor with enough force to cause his head to bounce. His beautiful wings spread out rigid for a moment before falling to the floor behind him. Someone screamed. Roland was yelling as someone in the crowd grabbed him and held him. 

“It's a monster, I'm telling you!!! Check for yourself!!!” 

Marianne dropped down next to Bog. “BOG??” She shook him, but he wasn't moving. Roland managed to get himself free and rushed over shoving Marianne out of the way and started to rip off the parts of Bog that were fake. “LOOK!! IT'S A MONSTER!!” 

The crowd gasped when Roland yanked up one of Bog's wings and it became clear that it wasn't fake. 

Marianne screamed. “ROLAND!!!” She started to come at him, but she was stopped short by her sister. “Marianne!!” 

The crowd was swiftly swallowing Roland and Bog. Marianne struggled. “DAWN!! Let me go!” Sunny put himself in front of her. “Marianne stop!! There is nothing you can do now.” 

Marianne stared at him, her brown eyes full of fear. “Sunny...I can't let them take him!!” 

People were holding up phones taking video and pictures. Dawn looked at Sunny who nodded and took off at a run. Dawn let her sister go at the moment the fire alarms started to blare, the sound filling the room. Within seconds, Marianne heard Sunny yelling, “FIRE!!! EVERYONE HURRY !!! FIRE!!” 

Tears were flowing down Marianne's cheeks as she started to violently push herself through the crowd trying to get to Bog. 

Roland shouted. “NO!! STOP!!” 

The crowd that had already been on edge exploded into chaos. Suddenly people were running for the doors. Marianne pushed herself through the crowd not caring if she hurt anyone. She was petite, but she was strong and had no compunction against using that strength to reach Bog now. She finally saw Roland shouting for people to stop, but no one was listening to him. Apparently, self-preservation won out over morbid curiosity. Marianne saw Bog still lying on his side unmoving. She burst through the crowd and in one fluid movement she slugged Roland in the face, sending them to the floor. 

She didn't realize that Sunny and Dawn were behind her as she struggled to get Bog up. She pulled and Dawn helped her, Sunny doing his best to help. Marianne started to drag him out with the help of her sister and Sunny. Bog groaned, his blue eyes fluttering open. 

“Come on, come on, come on!” Marianne chanted as she struggled to get him out of there. Bog struggled a little as he tried to regain consciousness. 

They had just made it to the doors when Marianne heard Roland yell. 

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” 

Marianne turned, Bog's arm around her shoulders to see Roland standing there with a gun held out in front of him; not a tranquilizer gun, but a real firearm. His hand was shaking, but there was a glimmer in his eyes, something...close to madness. 

“You are not taking my prize, Marianne! Why are you helping that monster anyway?” 

Marianne hissed. “He's not the monster, Roland! You are!” 

Roland's expression twisted into something strange as if he could not believe what she was saying. 

“What has he done to you Marianne??! What is wrong with you??” 

Marianne snarled. “Nothing! You are the one who has something wrong with him!” 

Marianne turned, hissing at her sister and Sunny. “Come on.” 

“I will shoot! Leave the monster or I will shoot!” Roland shouted. 

Bog was starting to move a little better when Roland yelled. “MARIANNE!!” 

For a moment the world seemed to slow...Roland shot. Bog turned, his long arms shot out pushing Marianne and Dawn away from him at the moment the bullet hit him in the chest, cracking through his armor plating, through his chest and out through Bog's back in a spray of blood. 

Marianne screamed. Her screams filled the room as Bog hit the floor. 

Sunny shouted to Dawn. “Get them out of here! I'll take care of Roland!” 

Dawn gasped and made a grab for Sunny, trying to stop him, but he was already running toward Roland. Roland stood shaking a little, the look on his face clearly registering that he was shocked at having shot the monster. But no sooner had his expression cleared than Sunny tackled Roland to the ground. 

* 

Marianne and Dawn had gotten Bog outside just as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. Marianne hissed a curse. 

Dawn looked at her sister in a panic. “Where's your car?” 

Marianne pointed. “That way, but we are never going to get out of here with the cops coming and all these people!” 

Dawn smiled. “Trust me—you will.” 

Somehow they made it to Marianne's vehicle getting Bog inside as gently as possible. He had moved with them, but otherwise had been unresponsive. Marianne got behind the wheel and expected her sister to get in too, but Dawn only leaned against the car door looking in her sister's window. Marianne rolled it down. “Come on!” 

Dawn smiled. “I can't leave Sunny. Okay, now listen. There is a way out that most people don't know about. It you go back this way...” Dawn pointed in the opposite direction everyone was going. “There is a small opening in the parking lot that leads down a back road. It's out of the way of the main road which is why no one uses it and even less know about it. It's going to take you out of your way but it will get you out of here before the cops arrival.” 

Marianne nodded. “Thanks Dawn.” 

“Marianne...” Dawn frowned, her face looking odd with the expression. “Bog isn't a monster, is he? He just looks that way...right?” 

Marianne smiled. “No, he isn't. He is wonderful.” 

Dawn smiled again. “I liked him and you know what? I liked him way better than Roland. I hope he's okay.” 

Marianne tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, but failed. “I hope so too.” 

Dawn stepped back. “See you tomorrow unless Sunny and I are in jail!” She giggled and waved her sister off as she turned and hurried back inside. 

Marianne pulled her car out with a glance at Bog. He was still breathing though he looked to be a very pale shade of grey. 

“Don't you dare go anywhere on me, Bog...don't you dare.”


	12. Not Quite What It Seems

Marianne wasn't sure where to go; where on earth could she take Bog where he would be safe? The hospital wouldn't work and she couldn't simply take him home. So she went to the first place that came to mind...the only place Bog would be both safe and possibly healed. She headed to the witch's home, to Plum. 

She drove like a maniac, hoping that some higher power was with her and there would be no cops on this stretch of road. And further prayed that she would not wreck. She was shaking all over as she drove, her foot pressed so hard on the gas petal that she practically had it flat against the floor of her little car. 

“Bog?” Marianne's voiced ached as she tried to get his attention, her eyes darting sideways to look at him while simultaneously trying to keep her attention on the road. He had either passed out or worse. No, he was passed out she told herself...he was not going to die on her. Not now...she swallowed as the sting of tears threatened to blind her. She was not going to cry. She refused to cry. He was going to live. He had to. 

She glanced sideways at him again. Bog was slumped against the window, blood slowly soaking into the seat of the car; Marianne could see the dark stain of blood even in the darkness of the car. She felt a sense of relief when she glanced at him, seeing that he was still breathing. His head leaned against the passenger window allowing her to occasionally see a puff of breath blossom against the slightly chilled glass. Marianne would shudder each time she caught the sight of that tiny fog of breath. He was holding on... 

* 

Marianne could feel the magic between them. It made the air in the car feel as if electricity had charged the air. There was a strange smell, like ozone in the air round her and Bog as if lightning was about to strike. 

Marianne had no idea what was going on, only that the air felt charged, which was not helping her state of near panic. The magic was feeding off her worry and the fact that Bog was dying. The fulfillment of the spell was not being met. It would either break or destroy—the outcome could only be determined by Marianne and Bog. 

* 

When she arrived at Plum's house, the gates were closed like before, but this time thick vines grew along the bars, twisting and tying, making the gate impossible for Marianne to even contemplate breaking through. Marianne drove the car right up to the gates and hopped out of the car. She ran to the metal barrier, grabbing the cold metal bars of the gate between her hands. She screamed at the top of her lungs. 

“LET ME IN!! IT'S AN EMERGENCY!!” 

At first there was no answer, just the dead silence of the night. She stood there, umoving, glaring into the fenced off space, cursing magic and all those who used it. Tears rolled down Marianne's cheeks as she leaned her head against the fence. With her costume still on, Marianne resembled a fairy princess, crying at the gates, her wings fallen behind her, weeping with her. Her voice had gone quiet, tears falling to blend with the soil at her feet. Her fingers gripped the bars tightly, her forehead pressing into them. Her voice choked with emotion, tears flowed down her cheeks dripping slowly off her chin, dropping to the ground to be swallowed by the earth at her feet. Her voice was soft, a plea, a whisper. 

“Please...he's dying.” 

The gate, all by itself, opened, slowly creaking with the pressure of Marianne leaning against it. She nearly fell face forward when the gates moved, but she caught herself just in time, releasing the bars with a smile of gratitude breaking across her heartbroken face. She turned and swiftly ran back to her car throwing herself into the driver's seat where she slammed her door on her gown and wings. 

She drove so swiftly to the front of the house that it was a miracle she didn't crash. The car made a terrible noise of screeching tires against the pavement of the driveway when Marianne slammed on the brakes. She was immediately out and around the side of the car, trying to carefully pull Bog from the car, but also trying to move swiftly. 

Bog had gone quite pale; his scales were the colors of a pale stormy sky, the blood bright and harsh against them. 

His breathing had become so shallow, that for a moment Marianne was sure he was gone, but when she moved him, he made the smallest noise of protest, causing her to almost break out into a cheer. Instead she choked on another sob at the weakness of the sound 

Imp came barking around the side of the house as she struggled to tug Bog toward the house. Imp went strangely silent at the sight of Marianne struggling with Bog. He sat back watching, his tail no longer wagging. 

Seconds later Plum swept out of the large wooden doors. 

She looked to be glowing, shimmering, moonlight condensed into human form. Her clothing made the witch seem ghost-like as she floated down toward Marianne. 

Plum rushed over and with a slight movement of her fingers, Bog suddenly became light enough for Marianne to handle. With a quietly grim expression on her features, Plum lifted one of his long arms and helped Marianne carry him into her home. 

* 

Plum led Marianne into a room to the left that Marianne didn't recall being there on her first visit here. She didn't dwell on the thought that this was a new room because her thoughts were too filled with the immediate danger of saving Bog. 

The two women settled Bog's lanky form on an elaborately decorated couch. Plum rushed out of the room, returning a moment later with a standard first aid kit. 

Marianne stared at her; the look of shock and disbelief on her face would have made anyone stop in their tracks. 

“First aid? A fucking first aid kit isn't going to save him!! I thought you were a god damn witch!!!” Tears were still running down Marianne's cheeks, her brown eyes rimmed in red. She was on the verge of hysterics, her rage at the thought of losing Bog now directed at Plum. She needed to lash out, at someone, at anything! 

Plum sighed. “I told you before, there is nothing I can do for him. Nothing. Even this—I cannot save his life. He is going to die unless you and he break the spell.” 

Marianne grabbed Plum's upper arms and shook her. She had no idea how dangerous this was, but she didn't care. She couldn't believe that there was nothing that could save him. 

“Fuck magic! Fuck magic spells!! Fuck everything! How do I break it!!” 

Marianne pushed Plum away in frustration. 

Everything was silence. There was no sound except for the soft, whisper of a breath that came from Bog. 

“Go away then.” Marianne's voice dropped to barely a whisper, the energy that her anger had given her faded, quickly draining from her as she dropped to her knees beside Bog. 

Plum watched them both sadly. The magic would not react the way it should had Marianne come into Bog's life years ago when the spell was new and fresh. Plum had no idea how it might react if Marianne did manage to break it. Instead of saying any of these things, Plum turned to leave Marianne alone with her dying love. 

* 

Marianne took his hand in her much smaller ones. She stroked his clawed fingers marveling at them so long and lethal, yet so very gentle. She traced each finger, each knuckle, bringing his hand up to gently kiss his fingers. 

Bog made a sound, just barely a groan, but enough that she heard the breath, her head coming up. Bog's face had rolled toward her where she could see blood flecking his lips and fangs. His eyes opened, just a slit, so thin she could barely make out the blue of them. 

Then he did something she never expected. He smiled. 

“Bog?” 

He started to speak then coughed instead. Drops of blood followed the coarse sound. 

“Bog don't speak, save your energy.” Marianne reached out to stroked his face tenderly. 

Bog frowned, his voice was so low, lacking so much energy she nearly had to press her ear against his lips to hear him. 

“No, no I need to say to say before it's too late.” 

A new wave of tears began to flow down Marianne's cheeks. 

“Don't talk like that Bog...please! 

He found the strength to lean over, reaching out with his other hand to gently cup her face. 

He smiled. “I love you. I love you with all my heart, with everything that I am. I love you, Marianne. I'm just happy I get to see you one more time...but I'm happy to be leaving you, to free you from me Marianne...you're free.” 

“BOG, NO!! I don't want to be free!! I don't need to be free! I need you!” 

She started to cry, her breath coming in choked gasps as his hand dropped from her face. As his touch left her, she realized he was no longer breathing. The entire room had gone deadly still, the only sound came from Marianne. 

“Oh Bog, no! No no no no!!” She threw herself across his still form. She could already feel that the life was gone from him, his body gradually turning cold beneath her. 

“Bog don't leave me...please...don't leave me. I love you.” 

Marianne buried her face against his chest and sobbed. Her tears washed over Bog's scaled form, soaking into his body. Yet nothing happened. 

She cried for so long and so hard that she didn't realize when she had fallen asleep against his corpse. 

* 

The magic in the room shifted, though Marianne didn't feel it. She was too consumed with her grief to care about the feel of the magic against her skin, filling the room. 

* 

In another part of the large house, Plum sat at one of her many mirrors, each magical for a different reason, with a different power. This one supposedly would give her answers to her questions. She could feel the danger of the magic around Bog and Marianne. The spell had gone on for far longer than she had anticipated. The spell had become convoluted, twisted over the years until she feared it could never be truly broken...only modified. She wasn't sure what that would mean for the two of them, but she was sure of one thing, they were trapped by the magic... 

Then she felt it. The sudden absence of a life within her house. Plum gasped when she felt his death. She remained very still, waiting to see what would happen next. She could feel the magic twirling. Something was about to happen. 

* 

In the wee hours that occurred just at dawn, the light was a soft orange in the eastern sky, mixed with shades of delicate rose petal pink. The light gradually leaked into the room growing inch by inch as it approached the two forms in the room. 

As the light hit Marianne, a shimmer began to form against her back, a soft twinkle of light, that for a moment formed what could only be described as wings...beautiful purple butterfly wings sprouted from her bowed back shimmering with magic. The wings moved, a soft wave, casting a purple glow that danced around the room. As the new day's sunlight flowed through the amethyst wings, the colorful beams created washed over the form that lay on the couch beside her. 

As the purple light cast over the still form of Bog, the scales that made up his hide began to shrink and fold, appearing—if someone had been watching—to sink back into his flesh. As the scales peeled away and sank from sight, the man underneath them was revealed. 

His hair was dark as forest shadows, his skin pale, but with a delicate color that hovered under the surface of his flesh...living, breathing flesh. His features maintained their sharp angles and severe lines and the lips kept their handsome provocative shape. 

As the light fully brightened the room, Marianne's wings faded, a glitter of sparkles that danced on the sun's beams and were gone.


	13. Curses and Magic

Marianne woke up rubbing her swollen eyes. She felt terrible, drained, exhausted and empty. For a moment she felt like doing nothing...she wished she could just let herself fade away into nothing. 

She had no desire to move, no desire to eat, to breathe...She didn't want to leave Bog here like this...she didn't want anyone to see him, to make a spectacle out of him, to hurt him any more...if only she had loved him sooner, better...would he still be here with her? She should never have made him go to that stupid party...she squeezed her eyes shut as fresh tears started to fall...he would still be here...with her... 

She took a shuddering breath, the fresh tears burning her eyes. 

She was so wrapped up in her pain that she didn't notice right away that anything was different until someone stroked her hair. 

For a moment she ignored the feel of fingers in her hair thinking that she was imagining it, but then the feeling of fingers along her scalp continued. Her head shot up, her blood-shot eyes wide with startlement, having not heard a soul enter the room, only to see a man with the most brilliantly blue colored eyes looking back at her from where he lay on the couch, in the place where Bog should have been lying, dead. 

Marianne let out a startled yelp and hurried to back away and stumbled to her feet. The long skirt of her costume tangled in her legs and she fell to her knees sending pain shooting through her legs at the moment the strange man called her name. 

“Marianne?” 

She stopped struggling with her skirts. She turned around to stare at him. The man, sitting naked where only last night Bog had been, was strange, but also familiar. She frowned, staring hard at him in an attempt to place him. He was tall, lean, pale, all sharp angles and pitch black hair. 

But it was his eyes that communicated who he was...no one had eyes that blue, that full of pain and love—a gentle soul. 

“Bog?” Her voice was rough and low from her crying. 

He glanced down at himself, touching his chest and then he looked back up at her. 

“Marianne...what happened?” 

Marianne's eyes widened. She didn't dare speak or move...was this a dream? Was her mind playing tricks on her, hurting her? She simply stared at Bog. 

She didn't know what to do or what to say...except to throw herself into his arms. 

“BOG!” 

He smiled, then let out a started yelp when suddenly Marianne tossed herself against him slamming into him hard enough to knock the air out of him. He wrapped his arms around her burying his face against her neck, her hair tickling his cheeks. He murmured softly against her skin. “Marianne...” 

Marianne leaned back just enough that she could press her lips against his in a deep paralyzing kiss. 

She pulled away from his mouth only long enough to whisper, her hands caressing over his face, his neck, down his chest as if she needed to keep touching him in order to know he was real. 

“Bog! You're alive!” 

Bog blushed. “Yes...and the spell? I don't understand...” 

Marianne stroked his face and laughed as tears rolled down her cheeks and she whispered, “You look so strange.” 

Bog laughed too, but then she was kissing him again and no words were needed. 

Her hands moved desperately over his head, his face, down his shoulders. 

Her kisses became desperate, passionate, her tongue caressed his with need. Her mouth brushed against his along with a soft mewling sound as her fingers dug into his skin. 

She wasn't waiting, she should never have waited. She loved him as he was and she loved him now. If Bog were to revert back, she would still want him, or if all of this was simply a wicked dream she didn't care. She never wanted to wake up. 

She loved this man, loved him, faults and all, no matter what he looked like—she loved him. 

If he would have her, she was going to take him. 

She learned back from kissing him and pulled at her costume trying to get the damn thing off. Bog sat up and reached out for her; his fingers were long and fine, the fingers of a artist. 

Neither of them spoke while Bog helped her strip out of her costume so that their naked bodies could press against each other. 

Bog brushed her hair back from her face, staring at her with adoration in his gaze. The aching need in his eyes was clear. 

“I love you Marianne. I love you.” 

She brushed the back of her fingers down his cheek and then she laughed softly, overcome. 

“I thought I had lost you...you were dead. I...I didn't think I could go on Bog. I love you...I love you so much.” 

She started to cry, which made her angry. Bog laughed softly kissing her tears away. 

“It's okay now,” he assured her. “I'm alive and it looks as if the curse was broken.” 

He smiled and Marianne felt a jerk in her heart. He didn't have fangs, but his teeth were crooked...delightfully crooked and the smile was exactly the same! 

She threw her arms around him. They started to kiss again but with them both naked the kiss swiftly heated up into something beyond simple passion. 

Bog ran one of his long fingered hands up into her hair, cradling the back of her head as his tongue traced her mouth. He explored her mouth more thoroughly, like a man who hungered. He needed the physical contact, he needed to feel every inch of her. 

His tongue slipped from her mouth to caress her chin, then glided down her throat, leaving a damp trail behind that had Marianne shivering with pleasure. Bog growled. The taste of her skin, the smell of her body, to finally be able to touch her after all this time....his mouth hungrily caressed her breasts, sucking, licking, exciting her with his wet caresses. 

Marianne moaned, arching her back letting Bog pull her closer. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, bowing her head over him, his mouth tenderly indulged in sucking and licking her breasts. 

He slid one hand down her side to grasp her hip. She shifted her position, rising in order to lower herself down again, taking him in...her body wrapping itself around him. 

Bog groaned, pressing her closer, thrusting up into her warmth while Marianne clamped her muscles around him, her whole body bowing into him. He caressed her back, groaning her name. “Oooh..Marianne...” 

She pressed herself against him, her brown eyes meeting his brilliant blue ones while her hips moved in a slow gradual rhythm. “I love you Bog....I love you.” 

Together, their bodies met, together they peaked as one. 

* 

Plum's head suddenly came up from where it had been bowed against the table. The magic had shifted, it was loose, free...its purpose served, but it still clung to them and it had spread, creating something new. 

Plum blinked in surprise, but then she smiled. The magic had chosen a new guardian for the flowers. She laughed softly, a set of guardians that is... 

* 

It was late afternoon, the sun had started to set, and the sky had turned a soft pink mingled with oranges and blues. Marianne was half-asleep against Bog's chest while his long fingers absently stroked down her bare back. It felt good to feel his fingers against her skin. They hadn't moved off the couch since making love; they had actually made love several times, unwilling to part and break the enchantment that kept them safe from the world outside. 

Marianne felt no desire to move. She wanted to stay right here with him for the rest of her life. 

The only reason she stirred was when she heard the rumble of her phone. She had completely forgotten that her phone was attached to a belt on her costume. On reflection, she was sure she had heard it go off earlier...With everything that had happened, she had almost forgotten about the world outside this room. 

She shifted lazily so she could reach over for the phone without falling off of Bog. 

Bog made a rumble of discontent when she moved. After a couple of seconds of trying to get the phone and not fall off of Bog, she finally had the damn thing in her hands. 

She pushed the button. “Yes?” 

“Marianne, where are you?? How is Bog??” It was Dawn, her voice frantic with worry. 

Marianne sat up. “I'm...we....we're at the witch's house.” 

“WHAT?” Dawn squeaked. 

“Long story, but the good news is Bog is fine.” Marianne glanced at him. She still straddled him, naked. He opened one eye to smile at her and Marianne blushed all over. 

“What happened after the police arrived?” Marianne laid back down on Bog's chest. He instantly put his arms around her again. 

“Well, Sunny held down Roland and they both got hauled off to jail. I bailed Sunny out. Roland is out on bail too, though I have no idea who got him out.” Dawn sounded as if she was calming down. 

“I'm sorry Dawn, but tell Sunny thank you from both of us.” Marianne reached out to stroke Bog's face. 

“Are you going to be home any time soon?” By the tone of Dawn's voice she knew what the answer already was no. 

“Probably not, but maybe tonight...tomorrow?” Marianne was smiling at Bog who was kissing the palm of her free hand. 

“Okay. I love you sis,” Dawn said. “I'm glad Bog is alright. I like him a lot. He's good for you. Oh and tell him for me that he is perfect the way he is okay?” Marianne could hear the smile in her sister's voice. 

“Thanks Dawn, I will.” 

Marianne hung up and tossed her phone back onto her clothing before dropping down to snuggle Bog. 

“My sister.” 

Bog smiled. “I gathered.” 

She kissed his chin and then his lips, marveling at how smooth he was now...the feel of soft flesh, the lack of spikes. Their kissing had just started to grow more passionate again when there was a knock on the door, a door neither of them had even realized was there. 

Marianne groaned loudly. “I guess our little fort of solitude has been broken.” 

“All good things must come to an end,” Bog whispered. 

Bog reached down to grab part of Marianne's costume, throwing it over her to cover her up a little when the door opened. 

Standing in the doorway, holding what seemed to be two sets of clothing was the witch Plum. 

Marianne grinned at her. “We broke the spell!” 

Plum smiled, but it wasn't a complete smile; it didn't reach her eyes. “Yeah...about that...” 

Plum stepped into the room holding the clothing out to them. They both blushed, but Marianne jumped up and took the clothing, placing the outfit for Bog over him. Marianne started to dress. “You don't look happy?” she said to Plum as she pulled on the skirt and blouse Plum had brought her. 

Plum pressed her lips together. “No,” she corrected. “I am happy for you both, but you didn't completely break the spell.” 

Bog sat up. “What?” 

Plum glanced at Marianne. “Well here's where it gets weird...” 

Bog lifted a brow at her. “Now it gets weird?” 

Plum ignored him and continued. “Remember when I said to you that the magic had built up over time...that it wasn't meant to go on as long as it did? It had become twisted?” Marianne nodded and sat back down next to Bog who had the clothing wadded up on his lap. He had turned to sit up when Plum had said that the spell wasn't quite broken. For a moment Marianne was completely distracted by his legs, long, lean, sexy legs. 

Plum looked between the two of them. “Well...the spell didn't break completely,” she repeated. “It morphed and changed. Now it has become something different. It...the magic..has decided that the two of you are guardians now.” 

Bog and Marianne shared a look before turning their attention back to the witch. 

“Guardians? Of what?” Bog growled. 

Plum took a breath. “You are now both guardians of the primroses. I can't take them back, they won't come. You have been their guardian for so long now Bog that they...like you.” 

Bog wrinkled his nose. “A bunch of flowers like me?” 

Plum nodded. “So they will stay with you...and Marianne.” 

Marianne looked confused. “What?” 

Plum decided to get right to the point. “You have become part of the spell. You are now like Bog.” 

“Human you mean?” Marianne asked, though she thought she might already know the answer was no... 

“Well, yes, during the day, but now you will be as Bog has been for many years,” the witch continued. “At night you will both share the burden of the curse, but during the daylight hours the curse will...ah...disappear.” 

Bog started to stand up, his blue eyes flashing. 

“You canna do that to her! Marianne doesn't deserve to be cursed simply for loving me!” 

Marianne reached out and touched Bog's arm. Bog immediately settled down and resumed his seat next to her, but he was clearly still angry. 

“Okay, so the curse didn't actually break...it just changed. Right?” Marianne frowned. 

Plum nodded. “The magic has a will of its own, especially after so long. It's stubborn. No, it didn't break—it transformed. Now you and Bog may share the daylight hours together as humans, but your nighttime hours will be spend as fey creatures....creatures of legend and myth to watch over the primroses...to preserve their magic and well...I suppose give it out if you choose to...” She gave them both a big grin trying to make sure they knew that it wasn't really that bad of a situation. 

Marianne blinked. “So ah...I turn into a female version of Bog? At night?” 

Plum laughed. “No, you turn into a fairy or at least the magic's version of you as a fairy. I can't really explain the whys or hows...I don't really understand it myself. Just because I use magic doesn't mean I understand why it does some of the things that it does...I only know that the “curse” has transformed itself, splitting in order be shared by the two of you.” 

Marianne looked at Bog who was clearly upset. She laid her hand on his bare thigh and smiled. 

“I would share any burden with you...even the burden of sharing the curse with you.” 

Bog frowned as he looked into Marianne's beautiful brown eyes. He took her hands and squeezed them gently. 

Plum smiled at their joined hands. “I can't tell you more than that because I don't' really know more than what I have said here. I think from this point on, the journey is yours and yours alone. Though I will guide you when I can. Just know that magic will always surround you both from now on.” 

With that Plum winked at the two of them and slipped away. 

Bog and Marianne stared at each other. “What do you suppose that means?” Marianne asked, but then she was silent. Bog had stood up and started to put on the clothing that Plum had brought to him. 

She swallowed as she watched him. His naked body was always going to be a distraction, in either form. 

It was so strange seeing him like this...human. His dark hair was a mess and his skin seemed so vulnerable. Bog was pulling the shirt over his head when he noticed her staring. 

“Do I look that strange? I know I'm not a prince or anything.” 

Marianne threw her arms around him. “Shut up Bog and kiss me.” 

He smiled wrapping his arms around her, dipping her back and kissed her. 

* 

Sitting in his car glaring out the window, Roland was furious. No one at the party backed up his explanation of events. The only good side of the whole mess was that most people were not even clear if he had had a real weapon. Many thought the whole thing was some sort of prank, that the whole thing with the monster had been staged. It was because of the crowd's inability to BELIEVE what they saw that Roland's bail was not set stupidly high and he was walking out this morning determined to make sure that monster was dead. If he hadn't managed to kill that monster the first time then Roland was going to make damn sure he killed it this time AND he was going to have the body as proof!! 

He was not going to be a laughing stock!! He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white as he snarled. He was going to kill the monster!! He was going to be the hero! 

* 

The sky was turning a from sky-blue pink to the black-blue of evening. Bog stood outside in the back yard of his home with Marianne beside him, holding his hand. They were watching the night sky as the soft twinkle of stars came to life above them. The moon had just started to make its appearance, rising above them. 

Bog swallowed, looking nervous and squeezing her hand. “Do you feel it?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yes, it's like a tickle along my spine and it's weird, but my ears itch.” She giggled reaching up with her free hand to rub one of her eare. 

Bog chuckled. “I can feel it all over. I guess the witch was right...the magic...just now you are cursed because of me.” He frowned. “Marianne—I'm so sorry.” 

Marianne turned to face him and her smile was warm, endearing. Then, with her free hand, she socked him hard in the shoulder. 

“Ow! Damn it Marianne. What was that for?!” 

“For saying you cursed me. You didn't. It's all magic and we have to see it as an honor. The magic chose us....” She smiled. 

Bog wrinkled his nose. “Magic has caused me nothing but trouble.” 

She laughed. “Yeah well, I didn't even know magic existed until I met you. And besides, we only change at night? Where are we going to go anyway? I love staying home at night. Watching movies with you.” She gave his hand a squeeze. 

Bog smiled. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

That was the moment they both felt it, the strange sensation of something washing over them, like the feel of water running down their bodies. The primroses that surrounded the property started to glow as the moonlight traveled over them. Bog didn't recall seeing that glow the whole time he was guarding them. Maybe the flowers changed when the magic surrounding Bog changed? 

Marianne and Bog shared a look between them. They seemed to read each others minds and they both rushed into the house. They decided to go for their makeshift bed of blankets and pillows that had been set up by Marianne for their movie nights. They both stripped naked, tossing their clothing aside. 

She made him sit down, both of them facing each other. Marianne was nervous. She was not scared, however. She didn't really care what she was going to look like, especially if she ended up like Bog, just as long as she had him. She loved him as he was; no matter which form he took, she loved the man. 

Bog smiled as he looked into her eyes. It didn't matter to him what the magic did to him, he only wanted her to be safe. They both felt it at the same moment, a tickling caress on their skin. Bog felt the strange growth of his scaled hide, the tickle of his unfurling wings and a slight pain of his claws and fangs emerging. The first time he went through the change all those years ago, the transformation had been agony so bad that he had passed out from the pain. But this? This time the change was softer, gentle, almost as if the magic understood that this was not a punishment, but a gift. 

Marianne gasped in wonderment as she watched the man she loved transform back into the strange creature she first fell in love with. 

Marianne shivered. Her back felt cold, then increasingly warm, and then immensely uncomfortable as it felt like the worst muscle cramp in her back. It wasn't horrible, just...strange. 

Bog had seen the way her ears had started to elongate, her body seemed to thin out, becoming longer, her face sharper as the magic transformed her. He gasped in wonder. A pair of beautiful butterfly like wings unfolded behind her, immediately reminding him of the painting he had done of her. 

“Marianne...” He smiled, her name a whisper on his tongue. She was magnificent. 

Marianne let out a squeal. “Oh my god, I have wings too!!” 

She turned her big brown eyes on Bog. “You know what this means don't you?” 

Bog looked slightly confused. “Noooo...” 

Marianne grinned even wider. “We can go flying together!” 

Bog laughed. “The first thing you think of is flying.” 

Marianne threw herself into Bog's arms. He hugged her tightly bringing up a clawed hand to stroke her face. 

She giggled. “Well, not the first thing.” 

Marianne kissed him softly pressing her naked body against him. Bog's voice was hushed. “Are you sure, like this?” 

Marianne purred. “Yes Bog, like this. I want you.” 

He stared down at her, then growled which sent goosebumps racing across Marianne's skin. “Oh Bog!” 

He shifted and pressed her down onto the pillows and blankets, her wings spread out under her. He gave her a wicked grin, his fangs showing just before he bit down lightly on her neck causing Marianne to groan. “Oh yes Bog!” 

His clawed hands ran up her spine, pressing the softness of her body against his rough, scaled form. She purred and while his hands stroked her wings, Marianne gasped with pleasure. 

* 

Roland stopped by his house, grabbing more bullets, his knife, a net, and anything else he could think of that he could use to destroy that monster. He was going to drive to its lair, kill it and cut off its head!! Oh...might need an axe, he thought with a grin. Should probably stop at the Wal-mart in town. 

* 

Marianne groaned loudly. Making love in their new forms brought with it so many new and delightful sensations. Bog loved biting her more when he was in his goblin form and she enjoyed it...a lot! 

Her wings wanted to buzz every time he licked or nibbled on her breasts, when his fingers explored her, and the sensation caused her wings to vibrate! When Bog entered her, the same happened to him. His wings that had been twitching the whole time they were making out, started to vibrate, and it was the most delicious sound she had ever heard! 

She looked at up at him, his features beautiful, his eyes the same summer blue, he was hers...now, always and forever. Her love for him ran so deep that she couldn't imagine her life without him. If the magic could understand, could think or feel, she wanted to thank it for allowing them to share the “curse” the responsibility and the passion together...forever. 

* 

Roland drove like a maniac to the lair of the monster. He had his backseat loaded with everything he had to kill the monster. He was going to destroy it and and skin it, display its parts He drove up to the gate and hit it with his car over and over again until finally the gates fell open. With a sneer, he ran over the gates and up to the house. 

* 

They were still lying among the pillows and blankets on the floor, a quiet stillness on the scene despite the chill that was beginning to settle on the room. Bog was slowly running his claws through Marianne's hair or occasionally down her back to glide the tips of his claws over her wings. She lay curled up against him with her head on his chest, and her hands pressed against him listening to the sounds of his heartbeat with a soft happy smile on her lips. 

He hummed softly, contented. This was the happiest he had been in so many years...even before the curse Bog could not recall a time in which he was as happy as he was at this moment. They were both starting to doze when suddenly the front door was bashed in. 

Marianne yelped in surprise jerking up with Bog growling. He came up swiftly, his wings buzzing. Then they both heard Roland scream. 

“COME OUT MONSTER!! I KNOW YOU”RE HERE!” 

Bog's blue eyes flashed as he ground out through grinding fangs, “I'm going to kill him.” 

Then Roland stepped through the doorway into the room where a naked Marianne and Bog had just moments before shared their love. He was armed with a gun in one hand and a net in one hand. 

Roland stopped in astonishment, his eyes going wide. 

“Marianne. What has it done to you??!!” 

Marianne was breathing hard as her eyes darted between Bog and Roland. 

“Roland I know this is all strange, but I promise you, Bog is not a monster.” 

Roland shook his head aggressively. 

“I can't believe this! It turned you into a monster like it!! I don't know how, but it did!” 

Roland's green eyes were filled with madness, crazed hate as he turned his eyes on Bog. 

“Well I'm not letting you get away this time monster! I bet you're like a vampire or something. If I kill you, whatever you did to Marianne goes away, right?” 

Bog snarled. “You don't know what yer talking about, ya bloody idiot.” 

Marianne took a step forward, her hands out. “Roland, now calm down.” 

Roland was clearly becoming hysterical. “CALM DOWN!! What are you?? Have you been a monster like it this whole time or did it do this to you?? I don't want to understand!! All I care about is taking this thing's body to the police, to prove I'm not crazy!” 

Bog muttered under his breath, “I think that ship has sailed.” 

Roland raised his weapon at Bog, his green eyes wild. He was no longer hearing anything that was being said. 

Marianne walked slowly toward him, her voice calm and gentle. 

“Roland, now come on, this isn't what you want now is it?” 

Roland turned the gun on Marianne. The deep chested growl that came from Bog was truly terrifying to hear...and only made Roland shake more violently swinging the gun back and forth between the two of them. 

Roland yelled again. “STAY BACK MARIANNE! I only want that thing!” He motioned at Bog with his unsteady hand. “Killing it will cure you!! I know it!!” 

“Roland please!” Marianne was caught between fear and anger—and anger was winning. 

Roland's attention cut to Marianne once more, which was when Bog charged, his wings lifting him up. He surprised both Marianne and himself when he suddenly flew up into the air for a brief moment and slammed into Roland. The two men rolled out of the room through the open door. 

Marianne raced toward them when she heard the sound of a gun shot. 

Marianne stopped dead, her eyes wide with panic and pain. 

“Not again....”


	14. Do You Believe In Magic

(Earlier that day) 

While Bog was out with Marianne, Stuff and Thang had spent the evening sitting on the couch in the “TV” room watching one of the movies that Marianne had brought over. They were cuddled up together, Stuff's arm around Thang and his head lying on her lap. She would caress his arm while they watched a romantic comedy together. Thang sighed dreamily snuggling closer to Stuff. Stuff grinned down at him, her dark yellow eyes soft and full of affection. She loved the little toad. Eventually they ended up lying on the couch together, snuggled even closer. 

They had become a couple not too long after the curse had changed them along with Bog. They were happy the way they were, happy to be together and in a lot of ways happy, that because of the curse, they had gotten to spend all their time together. 

Later that night, when the curse broke, neither of them were aware of it at first. They were happily asleep spooning with each other. Thang was the first to wake up. At some point during the night he had managed to roll over (without falling off the couch amazingly) and snuggled his head into Stuff's chest. He opened his eyes slowly, smiling and wrapped his arm tighter around her waist when he realized something was seriously different. Thang opened his eyes and realized that Stuff had breasts again...human breasts. 

He laid there unmoving, wondering if he was still asleep and this was some strange dream. He closed his eyes tight, then opened them again. Nope, he still had his face pressed between the breasts of a naked, human Stuff. 

That was when he screamed. 

Not because he wasn't happy to see her, or see her naked—it was simply the shock of seeing her human again. 

* 

“STUFF!!!” Thang yell as he fell off the couch to land roughly on his side. Thang's scream and subsequent fall off the couch caused Stuff to sit up straight and to fall right off the couch with a hard whack next to him. The first thing she noticed when she sat up with a groan was that she was much larger than she was accustomed to being in her goblin form. The next thing Stuff noticed was that she wasn't a mottled green any longer, but a warm brown. She turned to see Thang sitting on the floor next to her, naked as the day he was born, his green eyes wide. Human and naked. Thang stared at her. “Stuff?” 

Stuff reached out and gently touched Thang's face. His eyes kept their same dark color, and there was the froggish look to his features that had always been there...Stuff had to smile. It was Thang...her Thang. 

She stood up and looked down at her naked body in wonderment. Her usually gruff voice was a soft whisper of astonishment. “We...we're...human again.” Thang stared at her. She was just as lovely as he remembered her being before the curse, dark creamy skin, her head shaved bald, those large brown eyes....he had been in love with her before the curse and they had fallen in love after the curse. Gazing at her now, nothing had changed. 

Stuff blushed looking at a naked Thang. He was skinny, which she had always liked, with pale almost translucent skin. The poor man was so pale that he bruised like a peach. His brown hair was ruffled and sticking out in all the directions. Her love for the tiny man increased two-fold. It wasn't that she preferred his human form; she didn't, it was just seeing him sitting there naked and exposed... 

“Marianne did it! She broke the spell!” Stuff threw herself at Thang only giving the poor man a second to get his arms open and around her before they were falling back on the floor, wrapped up in each others embrace. 

Thang grinned. “We're human!” They started kissing...and more kissing...until one thing led to another which caused them to move themselves to another, more comfortable room. 

* 

That night, when they had changed back, holed up in their secret little love nest (It had been their love nest after the curse fell over them, a tiny room in the basement that they had spent all these years fixing up for the two of them. And though their size had been quite small as goblins, it still managed to work for them as humans). 

Thang frown, feeling the ripple of magic wash over them when they returned to their goblin forms. 

“Stuff? Are you awake?” 

Thang was curled against her much larger body, his arm around her waist. She moved rolling onto her back in order for them to speak more easily. 

“We changed back,” she said slowly. 

“Why?” Thang sounded very confused. 

“I have no idea...I mean...Marianne must have broken the curse...right?” Stuff asked softly. 

Thang shrugged. “I guess.” 

Stuff twisted the rest of the way around so she could face him. She smiled seeing him back to the froggy face she had been with all these years. She reached out and stroked her hand along his froggy jaw. “Something has changed, but I love you...that has not and will not ever change.” 

Thang blushed. He loved her no matter what form she was in...she was his Stuff and he loved her from now until the end of all days... 

“You think Plum might know?” Thang asked, though he was no longer truly listening. He was just gazing lovingly at Stuff. 

“Probably...she is a witch,” Stuff said with a faint smile. 

They were discussing whether to go see the witch when they both heard the sounds of shouting and then the crack of a firearm going off. 

Both of them sat up in shock. Then at the same moment they shouted together. 

“BK! MARIANNE!!” 

* 

At the sound of the gunshot, Marianne rushed to where Bog and Roland had stumbled away from her. Her heart was pounding hard against her ribs, hard enough in fact that she would not have been surprised to see a bruise. 

Bog and Roland were struggling on the floor of the kitchen. They had knocked furniture aside in their struggle. Bog had a clawed hand wrapped tightly around Roland's wrist, squeezing, trying to get the hand that held the weapon to open. Roland had a death grip on his weapon, while with his other hand he was trying to claw one of Bog's eyes out.. 

Neither of them seemed to have been shot, or so Marianne assumed, hoped the shot had gone wild. 

Bog snarled. “DROP THE GUN OR I'LL TEAR YOUR THROAT OUT!” 

Bog's fangs were bared and the look in his eyes was savage. Marianne was sure this was no idle threat. Bog meant to do it. 

Roland kicked hard, but then brought his leg around and wrapped his leg around one of Bog's, catching one of Bog's wings when he did. Bog hissed in pain, the delicate membrane of his wing tearing as Roland's booted foot ripped through it. The two men rolled again, Bog trying to get away from Roland who now realized he had actually hurt “the monster.” The two men slammed into the back door leading out from the kitchen into the back gardens. Roland had apparently left it open when he broke into the house. 

They fell apart when they landed outside. Bog's claws ripped through the skin of Roland's forearm,but Roland maintained a hold on his gun. Bog stumbled to his feet, backing away from the blonde man, with blood trickling down from a split lip. He narrowed his blue eyes at Roland. Roland was holding the gun on Bog; his hand was shaking and his eyes were blazing with a mad rage. 

Marianne came running out behind them and screamed. “ROLAND NO!!” Roland turned to look at her, his eyes full of disgust. When he turned back to Bog it was clear to Marianne he meant to shoot. 

Without considering what she was about to do, Marianne jumped on Roland's back just as he shot. Bog twisted away, the bullet ripping across his shoulder, cracking and tearing the armor plating. Blood burst outward in a spray from the wound, staggering Bog. 

Marianne had her arms wrapped tightly about Roland's throat. She wasn't trying to choke him; she just wanted to stop him, but he was struggling so viciously she was having trouble keeping her hold on him. 

The two of them stumbled backwards further into the back yard garden. Roland threw his weight backwards and the two of them crashed into a twisted tangle of primroses that had grown over and through some roses bushes. 

Marianne cried out in pain, the thorns of the roses cutting into her newly acquired wings. The shock of thorns ripping into her caused her to lose her grip on Roland. He slammed his elbow into her stomach knocking the breath out of her and breaking her hold fully. He scrambled to his feet shakily aiming his weapon back and forth between Bog and Marianne. Roland's eyes were watering; bits of smeared and broken primrose petals were stuck all over his face giving his features a hideous visage in the pale moonlight. 

* 

Stuff and Thang, following the sounds of fighting, rushed out into the gardens. They were witnesses to Bog getting shot, Marianne and Roland's tumble into the primroses and Roland's now maniacal effort to keep his weapon trained on all the monsters that he saw before him. The two goblins raced in Roland's direction determined to help in any way they could. 

Roland turned at the approach of the two smaller goblins, his eyes widening in panic. There were two more monsters!! Now Roland stood alone with monsters on every side. 

He was swinging his weapon back and forth, desperate to keep all the monsters away from him. 

“Don't touch me!! Any of you!! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL!!” 

The sound of Bog's roar seemed to fill the night, echoing off the walls around them. Roland turned with his weapon back toward Bog, but not fast enough as Bog slammed into him, driving Roland to the ground and into another tangled collection of primroses. As they struggled, Roland's scream was hysterical and high-pitched. The primroses seemed immediately attracted to Roland...seeming to move and cover his face and body where Bog held him down. 

Roland ripped and tore at the tiny pink flowers and loose petals that covered his face, eyes, lips. Bog twisted his body, putting all the strength he could into his injured arm to hold Roland down. Though hysteria had given Roland an unusual amount of strength, Bog proved to be stronger. Bog straddled Roland and reached out to wrap his claws once more around the hand hat held the gun. Bog growled, his fangs menacing as he hissed, “Drop the gun!” just before he savagely twisted the other man's wrist, forcing Roland's fingers to open, dropping the weapon. Except Bog didn't stop with Roland's disarming; he twisted until he snapped the bones in the smaller man's wrist. The scream that Roland let out was truly horrible sounding and then the next moment Bog's hands were around Roland's neck, squeezing, cutting off Roland's scream with a gargled choking sound. 

Marianne's cuts and bruises burned through her wings. She stumbled to her feet, holding her wings close to her body as Thang and Stuff moved swiftly over to her side to help her stand. 

“Bog no!” She tripped, stumbled, pushing herself out of the small goblins' grasp and fell onto Bog's back. She wrapped her arms around Bog from behind, pressing her lips to his armored hide. 

“No Bog, don't do it. Don't be like him, please. He's done...he's done...he's finished,” 

Marianne pleaded with Bog who was snarling and squeezing Roland's throat, murder clear in Bog's bright eyes. 

Roland's eyes bugged out. He was not just choking, but he was starting to blubber, saliva dribbling from his lips as his eyes fixated on Bog and Marianne. 

Marianne shifted her position, wrapping her hands around Bog's wrists gently trying to pull his hands away from Roland's throat. Roland's face was dangerously red from lack of air and the pressure that Bog was applying to his foe in his fury. The liquid from the smashed primrose petals was smeared all over Roland's face, some having leaked into his eyes. He no longer looked anything like the Roland Marianne knew; he looked like some demented creature who inspired pity rather than hate... 

* 

Stuff ran over and collected the gun, though both she and Thang stepped away from the fight. At one point Stuff handed the weapon to Thang. 

“Why are you giving it to me?” Thang almost dropped the gun. 

Stuff smiled. “Because I trust you. You have steady hands.” 

Thang grinned then, deciding he would do his best to live up to Stuff's vision of him. Espeically since he planned on asking her to marry him. 

* 

Bog slowly, reluctantly, loosened his grip on Roland's throat. Marianne took Bog's hands in hers. 

“Look at me Bog. It's alright.” 

Bog shuddered with rage, fear and pain. He moved away from Roland and dropped to his knees in front of Marianne as tears were slowly easing down his cheeks. Tenderly, she tilted his head up to look at her. 

“It's alright,” she whispered and stroked her fingers along his sharp cheeks, her thumbs reaching up to wipe away the tears that started to fall. 

“Marianne...did...did he hurt you?” Bog's hands rested softly against her bare hips. The moon's light made her body glow, his angel, his salvation and his love. 

“Forgive me? Maybe I am a monster...I would have killed him if not for you...” His voice was quiet, a hint of fear that she wouldn't forgive him laced his words. She smiled, wrapping her arms around him and pressing his head to her bare breasts stroking his layered scales gently, her fingers tracing the layers on his scalp. 

“I'm alright, Bog. You saved us. There is nothing to forgive,” she said soothingly. “I love you. You are not a monster and you never have been.” Her voice was a soft caress to his ears and in his mind. Bog wrapped his arms tightly around her pulling her against him. She felt the warmth of his breath against her stomach when he whispered, “I love you Marianne...I love you forever and always.” 

Roland slowly rolled onto his side, his legs pulled up in a fetal position. He was shaking and the pupils of his eyes were so large that his eyes looked black rather than their normal green. 

Marianne turned to look down on Roland. Her expression was a cross between pity and disgust. Her arms tightened around Bog. 

* 

They ended up bringing Roland into the house. Bog had growled, “We should leave him where he is...” 

Marianne frowned staring down at Roland lying among the crushed remains of primroses. She didn't feel rage any more...only pity. He was jabbering and muttering uncontrollably. She sighed. “We can't.” 

So they had brought him inside. Roland now lay on the floor of the kitchen still muttering to himself and twitching uncontrollably. Stuff and Thang were watching over Roland. Stuff had placed a splint on his wrist and attended to any other injuries Roland had as they waited for Plum to arrive. Marianne convinced Bog that they needed to contact the witch. Marianne had no idea who else could help them since they couldn't exactly call the police... 

* 

While they waited for the witch to arrive, Marianne and Bog had moved upstairs to Bog's room in order to clean and attend their own wounds. Marianne sat with her back to Bog both of them sitting on the torn up bed. She was dressed in one of Bog's shirts that he had converted for his wings. The shirt hung on her. The holes in the back that had been cut out for Bog's wings hung open and loose, too big for her wings, but the shirt covered most of her nakedness despite the tears that crossed the shirt from Bog's clumsy attempts at dressing himself. 

Bog tended to the small tears in her new wings along with her other cuts and nicks. Luckily, the damage to her wings was not extensive or irreparable. 

Bog murmured gently as he tapped some first-aid cream on her wings. “I think these are small enough that they will heal just fine.” 

Marianne winced, tensing before relaxing again. 

“Sorry,” Bog whispered. 

“It's alright.” Marianne smiled over her shoulder at him. 

Bog continued to work tenderly over her wings until he was satisfied that he had treated each tear. 

“Feeling alright?” Bog asked softly. 

“I'm fine Bog, I promise.” Marianne turned around to put her arms around his neck and kissed him. Bog winced when her arms rested against his damaged shoulder, causing 

Marianne to jump. “Oh Bog, I'm sorry!” 

Bog stopped her, cupping her cheek with one clawed hand. “It's alright.” 

Marianne smiled before giving him a little shove. “You're turn.” 

She wrapped his shoulder as best she could with what they had available. Marianne's eyes teared up when she saw exactly what Roland had done to his wing. The tear Roland had rendered was too much to fully heal. Bog would have a rip in the membrane of his wing like a scar forever. 

Marianne stroked his wing tenderly with her fingers. “I'm so sorry Bog. This is all my fault.” 

Bog's wings shuddered at her touch, a combination of pain from the wound and also pleasure at her touch. He smiled over his shoulder at her. “It'll heal.” Then he shrugged. 

“It's not your fault—the one person at fault here is Roland.” 

Bog turned around and put his good arm up. Marianne immediately snuggled under and against his side. She wrapped her arms tightly around him pressing her head to his chest and closing her eyes. 

“What are you going to do with him? He is going to tell anyone who will listen about us until someone else comes snooping.” 

Bog was about to open his mouth when a voice answered. “I'll take care of him, don't you two worry about a thing.” 

Bog and Marianne, both of then wincing with the sudden movement, turned in surprise to see the witch Plum standing in the room behind as if she had always been there. 

Bog snarled at her, “Don't do that!” 

Plum laughed throwing her hand out in Bog's direction. “Oh you!” 

Marianne rubbed her hand in circles on Bog's chest quieting the growling as she addressed Plum. “What do you mean, 'you'll take care of him?' You're not going to...kill him are you? Or curse him?” 

Plum, dressed in a soft flowing blue sleeveless gown, her long hair gliding out behind her, looking more fey than witch and laughed. 

“No no, of course not...what I meant to say is, I'll be the one committing him.” 

Marianne glanced at Bog who looked equally confused. 

Plum gave them both a gentle smile. “The primrose's have—altered him,” she said simply. 

Marianne shook her head. “What?” 

Plum sighed. When she spoke, her tone indicated that she thought the two of them were being rather simple. 

“The fight, when the primroses were crushed...they fought back. Remember, I told you that you were chosen? Well..the primroses protected their chosen guardians.” 

Bog frowned and asked in a soft voice. “How?” 

Plum swept around in a circle. “A primrose petal became lodged in his eye...now everyone he sees will be a monster to him...forever.” She turned around with a bright yet wicked smile on her face. 

“Magic has its ways.” 

Marianne gasped in shock. She wanted to protest, to say he didn't deserve it, but her words died before she could utter them. She wasn't so sure that he didn't deserve it and she wasn't too sure that she wasn't happy about it either. 

Plum walked closer to the two of them to lay a hand on either of their cheeks as she stared down at them both. 

“It's over....you are together...be happy.” 

* 

The following evening Bog and Marianne stood again in their garden, both of them naked as they waited for the moon to rise. The garden and the primroses had healed; the signs of the previous night's fight had been eliminated. More primroses seemed to have grown in their place filling the garden with color. Bog, holding Marianne's hand, wasn't watching the moon or the flowers—he was watching her. Marianne glanced sideways at him grinning. 

“What are you doing?” She asked with a slight laugh in her voice. 

Bog smiled. A genuine happy smile that transformed his face. Her heart leapt in her chest just gazing at him. She loved him with every fiber of her being. 

“Just watching you.” Bog blushed. “I wanted to ask you something.” 

Marianne grinned. “What?” 

“Will you fly with me tonight?” Bog asked shyly. 

Marianne's face blossomed into a smile that would have put the sun to shame. 

“Yes Bog,” she said with barely contained enthusiasm. “I would love to fly with you.” 

With a smile on his lips too, Bog pulled her into his arms. Marianne rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed him. 

The changed melted over them while they kissed. 

* 

Plum arrived with her nephew at the asylum located outside of the borders of town. The man who came to check her nephew in, one Dr. Alan Chumly, looked over the paperwork before meeting the eyes of the rather gorgeous woman sitting across his desk from him. 

“You're nephew had a breakdown. Roland Knight...hmm...interesting. Do you know what caused it?” 

Ms. Plum sighed, her beautiful face crumpling into tears as she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her blue eyes. “No, no I don't. The only thing I can think of is that his ex-fiancee is getting married and he realized how much of a fool he had been for breaking it off with her.” 

Dr. Chumly nodded. “Ah love, it can break anyone.” He gave her a understanding smile before looking back at the paperwork. 

“Oh my...he sees monsters?” 

Ms. Plum nodded. “Yes, I'm afraid it's even worse than that.” 

* 

In a small room with padded walls, Roland lay on his side, his arms secured within the confines of a straitjacket. He was muttering under his breath, his eyes wide with terror. Everywhere he looked there were monsters! Everyone was a monster!! Even he was one...he had seen himself in a mirror and had screamed himself hoarse...a monster...he was a monster...they all were monsters... 

Monsters everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Primroses do not grow in vines. Just added that for the story...so I suppose I could say magical primroses do.


End file.
